<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>coffee by dinofcker</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556134">coffee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinofcker/pseuds/dinofcker'>dinofcker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji is a Mess, Akaashi Keiji-centric, Awkward Romance, Drama &amp; Romance, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, One-Sided Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Post-Canon, Rare Pairings, Sexual Tension, Tsukishima Kei is a Good Boyfriend, Yamaguchi Tadashi is a Good Boyfriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:40:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>56,804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinofcker/pseuds/dinofcker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Why are you dating them?” Kuroo stirred the tea bag around, pressing it lightly against the cup.</p>
  <p>“Why not?” Akaashi sipped from his boyfriend’s cup. He realized he had taken it by accident when he was rushing out to work. Already leaving the driveway, a mug in his hand and the other on the wheel, it was too late to go back.</p>
  <p>“They’re just a sweet and salty duo.”</p>
  <p>“You’re still on that?” </p>
  <p>“I’m just trying to see why. Everyone thought you would have at least dated Bokuto.” Akaashi sighed. Kuroo wasn’t the only one who thought that. Akaashi did have feelings for him at some point, but he always forced himself to push his feelings back for the sake of friendship.</p>
  <p>“Bokuto and I are just friends, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi looked into his cup. It was normal black coffee, he didn’t like it that much but Kuroo never liked his coffee sweetened in the slightest. He should have seen it coming with Kuroo’s strange old man’s taste.</p>
  <p>His reflection wavered in the black liquid.</p>
  <p>“Besides,” Akaashi smiled down into his mug. The warmth spread through his fingertips. “We all like our coffees differently.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Akaashi Keiji/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. instant coffee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why are you dating them?” Kuroo stirred the tea bag around, pressing it lightly against the cup.</p><p>“Why not?” Akaashi sipped from his boyfriend’s cup. He realized he had taken it by accident when he was rushing out to work. Already leaving the driveway, a mug in his hand and the other on the wheel, it was too late to go back.</p><p>“Fair point.” Kuroo blew into his cup, the smell of white tea made Akaashi wrinkle his nose as it hit his face.</p><p>“I can’t believe you like white tea.” </p><p>“It’s not that bad.” Kuroo laughed.</p><p>“You’re such a grandpa.” Kuroo choked on his spit. </p><p>“How dare.” He lifted the bag and dunk it in, making tiny splashes. “They’re just a sweet and salty duo.”</p><p>“You’re still on that?” </p><p>“I’m just trying to see why. Everyone thought you would have at least dated Bokuto.” Akaashi sighed. Kuroo wasn’t the only one who thought that. Akaashi did have feelings for him at some point, but he always forced himself to push his feelings back for the sake of friendship.</p><p>“Bokuto and I are just friends, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi looked into his cup. It was normal black coffee, he didn’t like it that much but Kuroo never liked his coffee sweetened in the slightest. He should have seen it coming with Kuroo’s strange old man’s taste.</p><p>His reflection wavered in the black liquid.</p><p>“Besides,” Akaashi smiled down into his mug. The warmth spread through his fingertips. “We all like our coffees differently.”</p><p>Kuroo peered through his cup, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tadashi woke up at exactly 5:30 am. It’s a routine. Wake up. Freshen up. Make coffee. He started this when he realized that he and his boyfriends needed coffee to start their day. Without it, the whole day goes into chaos.</p><p>Kei likes his coffee with cinnamon. He’s not a morning person and often stays up late reading articles on ancient artifacts and discovered dinosaur fossils. The cinnamon adds a sweet and spicy kick. </p><p>Keiji likes cafe au lait. He enjoyed the milk foam. It’s a smooth caffeine drink. He likes the way the foam feels on his lip, often leaving him a white mustache to make his boyfriends giggle. He’s rather silly in the early mornings.</p><p>Tadashi likes his coffee sweet. He doesn’t like bitter strong coffee. It didn’t suit him. He struggles waking up a lot, but the sweet taste instantly kicks in. It’s like giving a 2 year old candy.</p><p>He drags his feet on the ground, listening to soft snores and grumbles as he steps over the two bodies.</p><p>“Tadashi?” Kei slurs, rubbing his eyes. Pieces of hair sticking out in random places. </p><p>“Take a shower. I’ll get the coffee ready.” Tadashi giggles out. Kei only grumbles before getting up, taking his time. </p><p>Keiji shifts beside them, moaning in his sleep. His cheeks were slightly red. Tadashi frowns. It was raining hard last night. It came out of nowhere and no one was prepared. Usually Tadashi watches the news, paying close attention to the weather. Unfortunately, they couldn’t predict the sudden downpour.</p><p>Tadashi moves to put the back of his hand on Keiji’s forehead. It was really warm.</p><p>
  <em> Too warm. </em>
</p><p>“Is he sick?” Kei’s eyes were wide awake, his voice slightly raspy. </p><p>“I think so.” Tadashi presses a soft kiss to Keiji’s head. It was definitely warm. He smiles as he brushes Keiji’s hair back. Sweat made it cling to his skin.</p><p>“Hey.” Kei waits, arms stretched out. Tadashi’s smile widens as he steps around the bed, letting Kei pull him in by the waist. Kei kisses his lips lightly, his hands rubbing a spot on his hips. Tadashi deepens it, his hands getting tangled into Kei’s hair. He slightly pulls it as Kei’s tongue touches his bottom lip.</p><p>Keiji coughs, his chest feels hollow and painful. It’s on fire. Tadashi pulls away quickly and goes to his side. Kei leans over the bed to take a closer look. Keiji was pale. Sickly pale. He opened his eyes slowly, unable to fully open them. Everything hurt. It was like looking through a foggy window. </p><p>
  <em> Duh. I’m blind. </em>
</p><p>He tries to move his arm but meets with pain that strikes through him. </p><p>“Shh.” Tadashi soothes him, running his fingers through Keiji’s hair. “You have a cold.” He cups his face, letting their forehead touch. Keiji’s breathing softens, feeling the extra heat course through his body. He shivers as Tadashi pulls away.</p><p>Kei rolls over and takes Keiji’s hand, rubbing small circles on his palm. Keiji mumbles in his sleep.</p><p>“I’ll drop by the shop to get soup.” Kei lets go.</p><p>“I’ll make some tea.” Tadashi stands up straight, stretching his back until there’s a soft pop. “You still want coffee?”</p><p>“No, I’ll drink tea too.” Kei shakes his head. He prepares for work, dropping the clothes onto the bed lazily.</p><p>“Kei,you got to fold them correctly.” Tadashi whines, picking up the clothes. There are wrinkles everywhere. He sighs and carries it in his arms. “I’ll iron them.”</p><p>Kei smiles a toothy grin. “Thanks babe.” He leans to give him a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>“Gross. Go brush your teeth.” Tadashi laughs, playfully pushes his face away.</p><p>“You didn’t mind earlier.” Kei sticks his tongue out.</p><p>“You’re hot when you’re barely awake.” Tadashi laughs as Kei’s face reddens. He’s always being teased by the two throughout the day. Tadashi knows how they’re like in the mornings, most people are too intimidated by them. If only they could see how soft and grumpy they are.</p><p>Unless the night before was… intimate. Kei is the happiest and Keiji becomes silly, always finding tiny things to make them laugh. Tadashi glows, his entire body has some type of shine to it.</p><p>Tadashi puts the kettle on the stove, watching the fire dance underneath the metal. They had an agreement that induction stoves are not to be trusted. Kei thinks that it’s an accident waiting to happen. With how clumsy Tadashi can be, he might actually put his hand on there and not remember it was on. Keiji agreed when Tadashi cut himself with a spatula.</p><p>Don’t ask how. It just happened.</p><p>“Babe, have you seen my watch?” Kei calls out through the hallway, his feet paces around the room. He felt guilty for slightly pulling clothes out of place as he sifted through their drawers. Their sizes were slightly different, but Tadashi had organized them neatly so they knew which drawer was theirs. </p><p>The sock section was all together at least. It was a bit confusing at first when they had just shoved everything together until Tadashi couldn’t find his favorite date night shirt. He put his foot down once he saw how ridiculous it was getting anything done with how mess things were.</p><p>“On the nightstand.” Tadashi calls back, carefully pouring the hot water into their designated cups. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Keiji watched the tea leaves typhoon around the bottom of his cup, his eyes drooped as he listened to clanks in the kitchen. </p><p>“Drink your tea, Keiji.” Tadashi didn’t have to look back to see his boyfriend slug off.</p><p>“I still think you have eyes on the back of your head.” Keiji coughed into his arm. He could feel the mucus in his lungs, it was gross.</p><p>“And I think you should be better prepared for rain.”</p><p>“How was I supposed to predict that?”</p><p>“By having an umbrella in the car.”</p><p>“It’s true, Tadashi did say to have one in there at all times.” Kei walked in the kitchen, joining them at the table. There was soup ready for him, still hot.</p><p>“Oh, I put your tea in a thermo.” Tadashi handed it to Kei, kissing his cheek as he sat down.</p><p>“I’m dropping by the store to get you some medicine and fruits. Do we need anything else?” Kei blew on the spoon before swallowing the savory liquid.</p><p>“We’re out of hand sanitizer.” Keiji drinks the rest of his tea, some leaves scratching down his throat.</p><p>“Dang, I’m out too.” Kei tosses the bottle back on the counter. </p><p>“Here take mine. I’m working from home today anyways.” Tadashi passes his bottle, halfway gone.</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’ll wash my hands a lot so I don’t get sick too.”</p><p>Keiji’s throat feels dry and achy.</p><p>“Did you put honey in that?” Kei peers down the cup, seeing a few leaves resting on the ceramic.</p><p>“No.” Keiji frowns. “I’m not a baby.” </p><p>“You act like one when you’re sick.” Kei sneers over to him. Tadashi giggles behind his palm.</p><p>“Tadashi!” Keiji whines, pushing his cup to the middle of the table. He sets his arms down to rest his head. It was pulsing through his body, pain striked through his spine.</p><p>“I’m sorry. You both act like grumpy children, but that’s okay.” Tadashi takes the dishes to the sink. “That’s why I’m here.” </p><p>The two men on the table felt their cheeks flush, watching their freckled boyfriend wearing a yellow apron with a white drawn hedgehog in the middle pocket. He looked cute and domestic, they could die happily with the sight.</p><p>“You’re not working today right?” Kei clears his throat.</p><p>“No.” Keiji groans. “I have so much work to do.”</p><p>“Do it here.” Tadashi hands Kei his bento, fixing his shirt and tie before pressing a kiss to his lips. “See you at dinner.” Kei nods and ruffles Keiji’s hair as he leaves.</p><p>“Safe trip!”</p><p>“See you later!”</p><p>“He’s gonna be pissed.” Keiji stands up, stretching his arms over his head until he hears a good <em> pop </em>.</p><p>“He always is.” Tadashi chuckles, rinsing the dishes. “He’s always grumpy after work.”</p><p>“I wonder why.”</p><p>“Cause people.”</p><p>“Of course, it’s always people.”</p><p>“How do you feel?” Tadashi dries off the last utensil, eyeing Keiji up and down. He wasn’t as pale, but his cheeks still looked flush.</p><p>“Throat hurts.” Keiji pressed down his Adam's apple. It didn’t hurt, but when he swallowed, his whole body would wince with pain.</p><p>“Stop that.” Tadashi lightly slapped his arm, pulling him towards the sofa. </p><p>"Remember when you used to have a two seater sofa?" Keiji settled down, letting his body relax into Tadashi's arms.</p><p>"<em>We</em> used to have that sofa." Tadashi corrected.</p><p>"We." Keiji closed his eyes, sighing pleasantly. It smelled like home.</p><p>And Coffee.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They used to have a two seater sofa until Kuroo had asked if they could check in on Keiji. That's how it all started. Kei automatically ignored his request, but Tadashi, the godsend angel that he is, asked a few more questions.</p><p><em> “He hasn’t talked to us in weeks. We’re just really worried.” </em> Kuroo had every right to be worried. It started with Keiji ignoring his texts.</p><p><em> “I know you guys aren’t close but if you could try to see if he talks to you.” </em> He folded his hands in front of him, almost praying to them. He started ignoring Kenma and his old friends from high school.</p><p><em> “Maybe you guys can convince him to move in with you?” </em> Kuroo asked out of the blue after hearing that even Bokuto was being ignored. Something was up and he wasn’t telling anyone.</p><p>At first, Kei was against the idea of sharing his living space, especially if they could see how warm and romantic he is in private. Tadashi wanted to ask Kuroo why until he went to visit Keiji himself.</p><p>Keiji didn’t make it into literature so he settled into being a manga editor. He didn’t make a lot at first to be able to afford his own place, and for some reason, he had distanced himself from the group. Kei felt it was within his rights to reject him until he saw the miserable state Keiji lived in his current apartment. There were instant coffee cups everywhere, cups of ramen piled on his desks and papers scattered on his futon. Tadashi dragged him to their apartment, coddled him until he was able to stand up with his own two feet. </p><p>“You really don’t have to do this.” Keiji didn’t want to be a burden to them.</p><p>“Yeah, we don’t.” Kei said bitterly.</p><p>“Kei, stop!” Tadashi smacked his boyfriend’s arm, hard enough to make him jerk in his seat. “We did it because <em> we </em> wanted to.” </p><p>“But-”</p><p>“No buts.” Tadashi waved a finger side to side. “Stay with us.”</p><p>“I can’t.” </p><p>“Of course you can. At least until you get back on your feet.” Tadashi held Kei’s hand the entire conversation, rubbing smooth circles on the back of his hands. Keiji felt envy sting the edges of his heart. It was like a knife slicing through his soul. </p><p>He knew why it hurt.</p><p>No, he wasn’t in love with them yet.</p><p>It was worse.</p><p>He was still in love with his best friend.</p><p> </p><p><b>Bokuto Koutarou</b>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Keiji knew if he stayed in his old apartment, he’d be constantly reminded of the terrible things his thoughts fed him. He’d stay up every night wondering where he went wrong.</p><p>
  <em> That’s right. I fell in love with the one person I look up to. </em>
</p><p>He sighed, rubbing a hand through his face. His eyes burned, sleep clawing at the corners of his eyes. He was so tired of everything.</p><p>“You’re still up?” Keiji jumped up. Tadashi turned on the kitchen lights, grabbing two plain white mugs from the top cabinets.</p><p>“Oh. I thought you were asleep.” He relaxed back into the sofa, the mattress lightly groaned as his back hit it heavily. A small shock of electricity ran through his spine.</p><p>“Funny bone?” Tadashi giggled, pouring coffee grinds into the machine.</p><p>“You’re making coffee so late?”</p><p>“It’s 5.”</p><p>“Oh.” Keiji reaches for his phone, his fingers sliding over the wooden table.</p><p>“It’s on the floor.” The scent of coffee filled the house.</p><p>“Thanks.” </p><p>Tadashi hummed in response, pulling out vegetables and rice.</p><p>“Do you need help?” Keiji watched carefully, the knife chopping into fresh vegetables felt homely to him.</p><p>“I’m fine. Thank you.” Tadashi answered, his focus unwavered. Keiji didn't realize how long he was watching him, the entire ordeal before him was so majestic and domestic at the same time. It was hard to believe what he was seeing was a real person. Keiji swore he saw a real life angel for the first time in the hell he’s been living in.</p><p>“Morning.” A rough voice gruffed, walking into the kitchen.</p><p>“Morning.” Tadashi pressed a kiss to the blonde’s cheek, passing a cup of coffee into his hands. Kei smiled, taking a small sip.</p><p>“Is it too much?” Kei shook his head.</p><p>“It’s got the right amount.” He leaned to kiss Tadashi, but met with his hand. </p><p>“At least brush your teeth!” Tadashi giggled out, moving his hand along with Kei’s face. He couldn’t sneak in a kiss at the end of their quarrel.</p><p>Keiji could only watch with his heart still hurting. He had never bothered explaining to Bokuto why he isolated himself so much. It was easier to self destruct than face your problems.</p><p>“Keiji?” </p><p>“Huh?” Keiji looked up, finding Tadashi and Kei munching on their breakfast at the table. He pointed a hand towards a seat to his left. </p><p>“Breakfast is ready.”</p><p>“I’m not hungry.” Keiji didn’t want to do anything today.</p><p>“Hmm.” Tadashi stood up, Kei looking at him curiously. He poured milk into a small pot, steaming it. “You like cafe au lait?”</p><p>“Yeah, how’d you know?” Keiji looked over in shock, turning  his eyes to Kei, who only shrugged in response.</p><p>Tadashi poured the steamed milk and strong hot coffee in equal parts. He stirred the coffee in a confident yet smooth motion.</p><p>“You ordered it every time I took you out to lunch at the cafe.” He spoons the reserved foam on top, serving to the side of the unoccupied dish.</p><p>Keiji liked coffee. He liked the way it made him wide awake during late night editing. He had tons of projects due in a week and sleep was not an option. He thought of it only as caffeine. It served one purpose to him.</p><p>The cup taunted him, his palms itched to wrap his hand around it and warm him from his insides. He only drank coffee cause he needed to. But today, this exact morning, he wanted to drink it. He wanted it. And Keiji never gets what he wants.</p><p>“Akaashi-san?” </p><p>“Sorry.” Keiji pushes the blanket off him, stubbing his toe on the corner of the chair. “Fu-”</p><p>Kei bursts into laughter.</p><p>“Kei!” Tadashi scolds him. He smiles apologetically to Keiji. “You good?”</p><p>“Ugh.” Keiji sits himself down, biting his tongue from crying out. Nothing ever goes his way. “Thanks for the meal.” He grabs the cup first, his lips reaching the edge, blowing it softly. He takes a brave sip.</p><p>“Is it good?” Tadashi takes a bite of  his eggs.</p><p>Keiji can’t explain how delicious the drink was. It was like taking a cloud and stuffing it down his throat, so soft and light and <em> so good </em>. He was drinking the forbidden fountain of youth, caffeine has never tasted this amazing in his life. He takes a bigger sip, ignoring the head scalding in his mouth.</p><p>“Slow down!” Kei scolds him. Keiji has to force himself to put down his drink.</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“Stop apologizing.” Kei tuts. “Just eat up.”</p><p>Tadashi giggles, chewing a piece of bacon. </p><p>“And you,” Kei glares at his boyfriend, “if you skip lunch again, we’re gonna have a talk.” He mildly threatens. Tadashi nervously laughs, sliding his plate to the slide. </p><p>That was all that happened for the rest in the morning. They sat drinking their coffees, talking about the simplest things they enjoyed. </p><p>Keiji learns Kei likes his coffee with cinnamon. Tadashi likes his coffee sweet.</p><p>He can get used to this.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Bokuto</b>
</p><p>
  <b>hey, you busy this weekend? kuroo wants to hang out at kenma’s. :)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Keiji slides the notification up. It was the fifth message in a week he’s received from the group. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo</b>
</p><p>
  <b>hangout @ sat. join us.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>He sighs, scrolling down social media, skipping over photos of old teammates having a good time at bars or restaurants. He feels hints of tears tease him. Tanaka and Kiyoko were engaged. </p><p>“Hey.” Tadashi plops down next to him.</p><p>“Hey.” Keiji takes one last look at his messages.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kenma</b>
</p><p>
  <b>are you okay?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>He shuts his phone.</p><p>“You okay?” </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“Oh?” Keiji leans his head back, letting it sink into the mattress. He’s laying too stiffly and he doesn’t care. He wants to be swallowed whole by a giant monster.</p><p>“I have anxiety and depression. I know what that looks like on someone else.” He sneers.</p><p>“I don’t have either of those.”</p><p>“Oh really?”</p><p>“Mhmm.” He nods his head, closing his eyes. He feels a warm hand on his forehead. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Checking if you’re sick.”</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“Sure.” Tadashi hums a tune. He can’t pinpoint what song it is.</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“I should be asking you that.”</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“You say that a lot.”</p><p>“Really?” Keiji’s being a bit of a jerk and he knows it. </p><p>“Kei’s been complaining about your friends. They keep spamming him, asking about you.” </p><p>“What?” He’s astounded how desperate they’re being. He wants space to move on. He wants space to breathe. “Why?”</p><p>“They’re worried.” Tadashi looks at him. He has long eyelashes. They sweep gently in the air when he blinks.</p><p>“You have long eyelashes.” Keiji bursts out. He bites his tongue and looks away. </p><p>“Akaashi-san.” He looks back to him. “Are you in love with someone?” </p><p>Keiji felt his heart leap to his throat, choking him. The room started spinning. Black and purple dots filled his vision. He shook his head, shoving his glasses on top of his head. </p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yeah. I think so.” Keiji rubbed hard against his eyes.</p><p>“You shouldn’t strain yourself so much.” The seat next to him let up. The small <em> ploof </em> of the mattress puffing up makes him acknowledge Tadashi was no longer there. The extra warmth beside him is gone. He sort of misses it.</p><p>“Coffee?” Tadashi leans over the head of the sofa, looking down at him. </p><p>Keiji takes a closer look at his eyes. Coffee brown pools reflected his face. They glimmered as the outside light snuck through the window. His freckles stood out more in the sunlight. His face glowed a sunny gold.</p><p>“Akaashi-san?” Keiji blinked twice. The view was still there. He’s definitely not dreaming.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I asked if you wanted coffee?” Tadashi smiled, a small dimple on his right side. </p><p>“Oh! Uh.” Keiji stumbled. “Um.” He pinched his arm.</p><p>Two curious orbs stared down at him with curiosity and concern.</p><p>“Yes.” He breathed out. Tadashi giggled, walking off quietly to the kitchen. He was so gentle and caring with everything. He grew to appreciate it in the future.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kei came home at exactly 6 pm. He peeled his coat off, messing around with his tie, but really, just finding an excuse to be near the kitchen. A voice sang out, echoing from the tiled kitchen walls.</p><p>“<em> Life’s too short to even care at all, oh. </em>” If Keiji said to pull out his heart, he’s serious. Tadashi’s voice was a celestial being descending from the Garden of Eve. He couldn’t help but pretend to sleep, attentively listening.</p><p>“<em> I’m losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control. </em>” The pots and pans clanked in the sink as he turned them over to wash them. His voice had a slight rasp to it, giving his singing a natural tone. </p><p>“<em> These fishes in the sea, they’re staring at me… </em>” </p><p>
  <em> Ping! </em>
</p><p>He hums the rest of the song out. Keiji mentally curses at his phone. He knew Tadashi was self conscious whenever he sang out loud. It seemed like a habit he does whenever he’s home alone. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo</b>
</p><p>
  <b>hey. you haven’t responded to our messages for a few weeks.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“You really should tell them.” Kei struggled with his tie.</p><p>“And you should learn to tie a tie.” Keiji smirked.</p><p>“Tsk. And I should really kick your a-”</p><p>“Dinner!” Kei gave up, slipping the tie off and throwing on the sofa’s armrest. Tadashi had already set the table.</p><p>“Uh. Excuse you?” Keiji scorned, dropping his phone beside him.</p><p>Kei turned around and scoffed. “Get up and eat, lazy bones.”</p><p>“Not hungry.” He called out.</p><p>“Akaashi!” He scrambles to his feet, slightly terrified at the hint of anger dripping from Tadashi’s yell. He knew better than to reject a meal.</p><p>“How was work?” Tadashi pours the homemade strawberry lemonade into glass cups.</p><p>“Hm,” Kei thinks, the fork prodding against his bottom lip, “Some kid kicked a co-worker’s ankle after hearing that chickens are the closest thing to dinosaurs.”</p><p>Keiji couldn’t help but snort. Tadashi laughed carelessly, spilling joy from his gracious soft lips. Kei had a small smile plastered to his face.</p><p>“How about you, Keiji?” Tadashi pushed a cherry tomato across his plate, shaking it off when his chopsticks stabbed into it by accident.</p><p>“Tadashi, eat your vegetables.” Kei stabbed his tomato, spilling red juices onto the table.</p><p>“Kei, you’re making a mess!” He whined.</p><p>“Stop being childish and eat your freakin’ tomatoes.”</p><p>“They’re so gross!” Tadashi sets his chopsticks down. “You know they get everything soggy and they’re so tasteless.” He sticks his tongue out, disgusted how easily Kei shoves the red abomination into his mouth.</p><p>“They’re delicious and nutritious.” </p><p>“Gross.”</p><p>“Tomatoes are pretty good.” Keiji comments.</p><p>“Not you too…” Tadashi rolls his eyes.</p><p>“See?” Kei points his fork over to him. “You need to stop being so picky.” Tadashi only squints at him before turning his gaze to Keiji.</p><p>“So, aside from betraying me, are you still on break?” The chopsticks clink softly against the bottom of the plate. He’s used to the scrapes of wooden chopsticks meeting foam cups. It was a huge difference when he ate alone.</p><p>“I got offered a new project. I guess I’ll accept it since my bank is a bit dry.” Keiji bit his lip. He really didn’t want to think about the grueling hours spent slouched over his desk, reading for hours on end on stupid romance manga.</p><p>Maybe he should ask for someone more adventurous.</p><p>“You know,” Tadashi set his chopsticks down on his plate, “you could stay here and live with us.”</p><p>“No, I stayed long enough.” Keiji shakes his head. </p><p>“We talked about it already, Akaashi-san.” Kei leans back in the chair. “We’re okay with you living here.”</p><p>“Why?” He didn’t mean to let it slip. He’s been super grateful for them, but why would they let someone like <em> him </em> stay with <em> them </em>. He was so… out of place. He didn’t feel like he belonged there.</p><p>Right, he was just some nobody. </p><p>“Because we like you, duh.”</p><p>
  <em> You’ll only be in their way. </em>
</p><p>“Kei, be nice.” Tadashi hissed under his breath. “Akaashi-san, we think you need someone to talk, when you’re ready of course. We won’t tell anyone you’re living with us, but we think you need someone until you start to get your life together.”</p><p>“You two have a life <em> here </em>. I feel like I’m just barging in. I’m being a third wheeler.” Keiji clenches his fist underneath the table.</p><p>
  <em> Why are you being so nice to me? </em>
</p><p>“Keiji.” It slips off Tadashi’s tongue. It was honey dripping from a beehive, sweet with a sting. “We want to help.”</p><p>“Tell us.” Kei looks at him, really looks into his eyes. He was sincere and caring, Keiji’s heart skips a few beats. Gold planets look into him like he was the universe, in reality, it was the opposite. Kei was the faraway planet you could never reach. Tadashi was a literal star so bright and shining with love, you can’t ever look at it without the planet hogging it up for himself.</p><p>He looks down to his half eaten dinner, losing his appetite as his thoughts festered.</p><p>
  <em> I wish I could combust into flames. </em>
</p><p>“Can I have some coffee?” </p><p>“Sure.” Tadashi hops up, falling into his small routine. Kei peers at him with an eyebrow quirked up. <em> Don’t think you’re getting out this </em>etched all over his face. Keiji nodded in corroboration. He knows he can’t get out of this. Nothing gets past them apparently. </p><p>“Here.” Tadashi’s hands flick across his knuckles as he takes the cup. He can feel heat radiate from his neck. </p><p>“So?” Kei takes a long sip, annoying them with his obnoxious slurp.</p><p>“Kei, that’s disgusting.” Tadashi flinches.</p><p>“Oh hush.” He chuckles.</p><p>Keiji takes a deep breath, enjoying the coffee aroma filling in between the walls. It’s homely and he wants to soak it in as much as he could before he destroys it.</p><p>
  <em> I’m in love with you two.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m in love with- </em>
</p><p>“I’m in love with Bokuto.”</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. espresso</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>akaashi keiji's feelings are a mess </p><p>can that be an official tag yet lol</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi Keiji knew he royally fucked up. No, he sincerely absolutely fucked up. His existence hung by a thread, slowly rocking back and forth. </p><p>“Bokuto-san?” Kei tried really hard to not smile, but it grew as the silence was prolonged. </p><p>“Tsukishima-san.” Keiji warned him.</p><p>“I-I’m sorry. It’s just, Bokuto? The weird owl looking hair guy?” Tadashi slapped his shoulder.</p><p>“Kei, be nice.”</p><p>His laughter spilled in between breaths, holding it in his lungs as best as he could. Keiji opened his mouth but was interrupted by Kei succumbing to his laughter.</p><p>“Kei!”</p><p>“Tsukishima!”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He clutched his stomach, his head nearly touching the table. “It’s just, <em> Bokuto </em> out of everyone.” He giggled out, trying to exhale correctly. His breathing stuttered, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t see how this is funny, Kei.” Tadashi frowned, watching their cups slide a centimeter everytime Kei slammed his fist on the table. </p><p>Keiji wanted to take back what he said. He wanted to turn back time to the day his mother gave birth to him. Maybe if he went to Aoba Johsai or Shiratorizawa instead. He could pass for an eagle, right?</p><p>“Okay. I’m good.”</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Ok-”</p><p>“Pfft hahaha.”</p><p>“Kei!”</p><p>“Okay. I’m done.”</p><p>Tadashi and Keiji eye him for a few seconds before looking at each other. Kei lets out a snort.</p><p>“Kei, if you’re going to misbehave, go to the room.”</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“Go!”</p><p>“But babe-”</p><p>“Go!” Kei groans, shoving his chair in and stomping off to the room. He grumbles, shutting the door shut.</p><p>“Huh.” Keiji wasn’t sure to be impressed how whipped Kei was, or how Kei was actually listening to someone without arguing back.</p><p>“You were saying, Akaashi-san?” Tadashi sipped his coffee, looking innocent and pure.</p><p>“Uh…” He cautiously snuck a glance at the closed door. “Is he okay?”</p><p>“He’s fine.” Tadashi waved a hand. “He’s been grounded before.”</p><p>“Grounded?”</p><p>“He’s done some...rude stuff.” He clears his throat. “He knows what he did wrong.” He puts the coffee to his lips.</p><p>“Babe, can I come out now?” Kei calls out, muffled by the door in between him and the hall.</p><p>“If you behave. One more rude act and you’ll stay in there.” Tadashi chuckles before whispering, “I love having him wrapped around my finger.”</p><p>Keiji is definitely impressed. His heart pace quickens, watching Tadashi’s eyes glower with a sort of control as his boyfriend walks into the kitchen. He nods at him.</p><p>Kei sighs quietly. “I’m sorry for laughing at you.” Tadashi nods in approval.</p><p>“It’s okay.” Keiji shifts in his seat, grabbing the cup to take a drink. Oh, how this scene makes his heart hurt.</p><p>“So, we were saying?” Tadashi and Kei look at him, waiting for him to say more.</p><p>“Ah, well, I like...Bokuto?” He winces.</p><p>Tadashi tilts his head. “Are you asking us?” </p><p>“Sorry, I was just-”</p><p>“Akaashi-san.” Keiji looked up from his mug, his head started to pulsate.</p><p>“Tsukishima?”</p><p>“You seem conflicted.” Kei hooks a pinky around Tadashi’s mug, sliding it towards him. Tadashi opened his mouth to complain but closed it quickly when Kei spoke again. “What’s the catch?”</p><p>“Uh…” Keiji is a smart man, but so was Kei. “I’m not sure actually.”</p><p>He moves his mug side to side, watching it wave against the edges. He relishes the tiny splashes it makes, making sure not to spill anything.</p><p>“I’m kind of in the middle.” He takes his hand off the mug, letting it tap against the wooden table. “I do like him, a lot, but I’m not sure. I don't know. It's all confusing.” He watched the foam of his coffee gather in the middle. He wants to be that fluffy foam, just minding his own business and far from here.</p><p>“Do you want to be with him?” Tadashi takes back his mug, stealing a sip. </p><p>“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him for awhile.” </p><p>“Maybe you should.” </p><p>Keiji looks up in shock. “What?”</p><p>“See if you still like him, maybe you think you don’t because you haven’t seen him in so long.” Kei says, his hand reaching for the white mug. </p><p>“Kei, stop! I made it, it’s mine.” Tadashi whines. Kei sticks his tongue out before gulping the rest of the coffee. Keiji chuckles, taking a gulp himself.</p><p>“I suppose I should.” </p><p><em> But I really want to be with you two. </em> </p><p>His heart pangs. Kei and Tadashi were two perfect bodies, mingling and tangling beautifully together. He doesn’t know Kei on a personal level, but with what he’s seen before and heard from others, Kei has never been so <em> nice </em> and <em> caring </em> to anyone. </p><p>
  <em> Guess that’s what dating does to you, huh? </em>
</p><p>He feels his upper lip tickle.</p><p>“Akaashi-san.” Tadashi stifles his giggle.</p><p>“You got some uh…” Kei points a finger to his own mouth. Keiji furrows his eyebrows, confused for a few seconds.</p><p>“Oh!” He takes his arm and wipes off the foam. Tadashi lets his breathy giggle escape his lips.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry!” His voice was sweet like sugar, it was the fluffy foam on top of his coffee. He wanted more.Keiji smiles, listening to the soft drips of the faucet.</p><p>“Is the faucet broken?”</p><p>“Hm?” Tadashi looks over to the sink. “No, just leaking a bit. We wanted to call the plumber but we’ve been clogged with work.” He looks back.</p><p>“I think I’ll talk to Bokuto.” Keiji surprises himself. He wasn’t expecting to give in. The couple must have a way with words.</p><p>
  <em> Maybe I’m better off back at home. </em>
</p><p>He remembers the dishes and trash stacking up in the corners of his room.</p><p>He mentally shakes off the thought. He needed to focus on one thing first.</p><p>Job. Bokuto. Friends. Tadashi. Manga. Kei. Phone. <b>Tadashi</b> . <b>Kei</b>.</p><p>Ok, maybe it’s harder than he thought.</p><p>“Will you be alright?” Kei leans back into his chair, an arm drapes behind Tadashi’s.</p><p>“I think so.” He shakily responds.</p><p>“You seem fairly confident.” Kei sneers.</p><p>“Kei.” Tadashi warns him.</p><p>He sighs, looking straight into Keiji’s eyes. His heart stutters, watching the golden honey orbs reflect the light peeking through the curtains.</p><p>“You can meet at the cafe. If things go south, come back here.” Keiji wants to interject, pointing out he doesn’t belong there for the third or fourth time. His mouth closes when Kei folds his hands together. “Don’t say you’re not welcome, it’s rare for us to ever invite anyone over.”</p><p>“Rare for you.” Tadashi sticks his tongue out at Kei.</p><p>“As I was saying, we don’t mind. You’re more than welcome. It’s better here than the hell you were living in before. That place was so messy.” Tadashi lights slaps his arm.</p><p>“Be nice.”</p><p>“I am!”</p><p>Tadashi rolls his eyes. “Akaashi-san, we’re fine with you rooming with us in the meantime you figure yourself out.” </p><p>Keiji’s throat dries, his legs bounce under the table. <em> Maybe I’m just jealous cause I want what they have? </em></p><p>
  <em> Probably. </em>
</p><p>He convinces himself to try. Sort of.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kuroo</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukki said you’re free later this evening?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Keiji rubs his eyes, his elbows knock his glasses off the armrest. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Akaashi</b>
</p><p>
  <b>yeah.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” He looks to his side, Tadashi jumping onto the seat next to him, his weight above his legs.</p><p>“Wh-”</p><p>“You spent 15 minutes looking at your phone to send one word?” Tadashi leans over into his face, peering down the phone. “At least, send a ‘thanks for checking in’ or something.”</p><p>“I guess.” Keiji looks down, his cheeks warmed from the extra weight.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Akaashi</b>
</p><p>
  <b>thanks for checking in on me. sorry i didn’t respond earlier.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Better?” He looks up to see him nod. </p><p>“Better.” Keiji has half a mind to move his legs, he knows he’s being a bit selfish taking over the sofa when it’s not even his place, but he likes the warmth Tadashi gives off. </p><p>He bites his cheek. “You want me to move?”</p><p>Tadashi doesn’t look at him. “If you don’t want them to fall asleep.” He flips through channels, different voices streaming from the tv. </p><p>
  <em> “Tomorrow’s forecast will be chilly. Temperature will drop as evening comes.” </em>
</p><p>Keiji felt like there were tiny legs crawling throughout his body. His legs were falling asleep and it was becoming painful. Maybe it wasn’t worth the extra warmth.</p><p>“If your legs are asleep, you should probably move them.”</p><p>“Ah.” He pulls his legs from underneath Tadashi. He hisses in pain, the stabbing pins and needles trickle through his lower body. </p><p>It wasn’t worth it.</p><p>Tadashi giggles, still looking at the tv. “Told you.”</p><p>
  <em> Well if he’s gonna giggle like that, it might as well be worth it. </em>
</p><p>“Where’s Tsukishima?” He wants to hear more of his voice. </p><p>“In the room.”</p><p>His stomach turns. “Am I taking his spot?”</p><p>“What?” Tadashi questions. “Oh, he has his computer there. The office isn’t set up yet.”</p><p>“There’s an office?” Keiji hasn’t looked around in the apartment for the few weeks he’s stayed, but then again, the majority of his day was spent in the living room, kitchen and bathroom.</p><p>“Yeah, but we’ve been too busy to build the desk.” </p><p>“More like too lazy.” Kei drags his feet. “There’s too many screws for the damn thing.” He sighs, draping his arms from behind Tadashi. He lifts his chin to kiss him upside down. It looked silly, but Keiji thought it was silly cute.</p><p>“How was the call?” Tadashi speaks against Kei’s lips, pressing another kiss.</p><p>“The computers are down again.”</p><p>“You want me to check it out right now?”</p><p>“It’s your day off.”</p><p>“I’m not doing anything.”</p><p>Kei hesitated, rubbing his thumb on the side of his jaw. He bends back slightly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Only if you want to.”</p><p>“Of course I want to.” Tadashi ruffles his hair, laughing softly. </p><p>Kei pulls away completely, walking to the kitchen. “We’ll go after coffee.”</p><p>There were two soft clinks against the countertop.</p><p>“Vanilla or Oreo?” Kei calls out.</p><p>“Oreo!” Tadashi calls back.</p><p>Keiji wanted to leave the apartment soon. Maybe seeing his friends would do him good. Maybe he’ll feel like going back home. Maybe what he’s feeling now is just jealousy and nothing more.</p><p>
  <em> Maybe you’re not in love. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Bokuto</b>
</p><p>
  <b>hey!</b>
</p><p> </p><p>His heart falls.</p><p>
  <em> Do I even know what love is? </em>
</p><p>“Akaashi?”</p><p>He’s not sure he’s ready.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Bokuto</b>
</p><p>
  <b>:) see you later? i miss youuu</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Am I in love? </em>
</p><p>“Akaashi-san?”</p><p>He looks up. Tadashi had his arms wrapped around Kei, both leaning into the countertop with worry etched on their faces.</p><p>Keiji feels sick.</p><p>
  <em> I’m never going to have that. </em>
</p><p>“I’ll be going.” He doesn’t give them another glance, tossing a sweater on and shoving his feet inside his shoes. “Later.” He mumbles. The door slams harsher than he intended.</p><p>He just wants to be away from them. Everything they did made him feel sick.</p><p>He hopes what he feels for Bokuto would be stronger than his jealousy for two people that are taken to each other.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>His thoughts spiral down a mahogany staircase, intricate gold designs glow around the rails. </p><p>
  <em> You don’t love anyone. </em>
</p><p>He’s at the front of the cafe now.</p><p>
  <em> You can’t love anyone. </em>
</p><p>“Akaashi! Hey!”</p><p>The voice crawls into his ears, causing his entire body to shiver.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t want to be in love. </em>
</p><p>Bokuto is there, waving to him at a table. They were sitting outside. Kuroo had his usual shit eating grin. Kenma was probably too busy today.</p><p><em> I don’t want to be in love with </em> <b> <em>him </em> </b> <em> anymore </em> <b>.</b></p><p>“Akaashi!” Bokuto waves excitedly.</p><p>His heart starts beating faster.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t know what I’m doing. </em>
</p><p>“Akaashi!” Kuroo puts Bokuto’s hand down, flat against the table. Three cups of coffee are already set on the table.</p><p>They were all espressos, his least favorite.</p><p>
  <em> I’m such a fool. </em>
</p><p>“Ah.” Tadashi’s smile and Kei’s eyes were deep-seated in the back of his mind.</p><p>
  <em> A big fool. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have keys to go back.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> GOD DAMN IT KEIJI. YOU ABSOLUTE FOOL. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. double espresso</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>feelings are confusing. akaashi's head is as tangled as my earphones when they get tossed around in my backpack.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keiji stirred sugar into his cup, watching it dissolve instantly as steam warmed the tip of his nose. Puffs of cold air hit the tip of his ears. He takes a sip of the coffee, it leaves an acrid aftertaste. Is it the espresso he hates or is this the wrong cafe?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a nice cafe, homely, and family friendly. It was great for adults who wanted to relax, students in need of caffeine while doing homework or studying, and most importantly, a couple of adults hanging out after months of not talking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wanted to laugh at how dramatic everyone was. It was like a high school drama and he was the main character who everyone hates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Akaashi.” Kuroo uses a plastic stirrer, swirling cheap coffee creamer. “We missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji swallows the bitter taste. His tongue felt thick, mouth full of pennies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi.” He sharply inhaled. “You want to tell us what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto hasn’t said anything. He hadn’t drunk from his cup yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t even like coffee.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls his shoulders back, releasing a few small pops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. “I was going through some stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit.” Kuroo clicked his tongue. Bokuto shifted in his seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re awfully quiet, Bokuto-san.” Keiji lifts a finger, tapping the side of his jaw. He wants to dump the coffee into the street, it was an abomination. It was nothing compared to the sweet silky cafe au lait.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to go home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His littered apartment or the sofa he’s taking over at a couple’s apartment?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stopped talking to us. I didn’t even know you were speaking with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima.” Kuroo cracks his knuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to be alone.” Keiji looks down into the void in his cup. Maybe he should just pour a shit ton of sugar to drown the copper taste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have just </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>that.” Kuroo blows a deep breath from his lips, letting his back smack hard in the chair. “You could have just </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> us, we’re your friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo….” Bokuto mumbles. “I’m sure there’s a reason. Akaashi wouldn’t just leave us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he did, Bokuto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto, you were literally there with us!” Kuroo slams his fists on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s right. I left.” Keiji drops his finger, tapping the wooden rustic table. They were speaking like he wasn’t right there, despite being </span>
  <em>
    <span>invited</span>
  </em>
  <span> to this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pregnant pause, the air was heavier. For drinking outside, it got too hot. They stare into their cold coffee cups, swirling the stirrers while in deep thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not going to tell us, then don’t waste our time.” Kuroo slams his seat back, hitting an empty chair behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo!” Bokuto scrambles, pulling his chair sideways to stop him from leaving. “You’re being unfair. Let Akaashi explain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pushes his cup away. He can’t force himself to drink the metallic horror. “I decided it was better for me to face my own problems.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we’re here for you.” Bokuto reaches over, his hand carelessly touching the top of Keiji’s. His thumb rubbing over his knuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s mind races, his thoughts causing his entire body to feel light but sickening. He pulls away from his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I ran away, and I’m learning to face it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you running from?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say a word. His head feels hot and fuzzy, a small ringing buzzed in his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Work.” He lied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know if you needed space, you could have told us.” Bokuto reaches over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I’m facing it now.” Keiji doesn’t miss the hurt expression when he pulls farther away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t need this. I don’t need you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even work doesn’t make you this isolated.” Kuroo taps his fingers impatiently. “There’s more to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji drops his head, too afraid to look at them. “I told you, it’s work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsukishima says you’re taking a break from work.” Kuroo clenches his fists. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you going to do now, Keiji?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes his stirrer from the table, scratching at the table. He traced invisible kanjis over it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tadashi. Kei. Tadashi. Kei. Tadashi. Kei.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi.” He stops himself from breaking the stirrer in half. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Bokuto-san?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell us anything?” That voice. The soothing voice. Bokuto had said it so sadly and unordinary. He wasn’t the excited, loud, confident self.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it my fault?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him wants to pump his fist for having an effect on him. Part of him wants to let go and never go back. His emotions were crumpled receipts forgotten at the bottom of his backpack, he was tired and worn out from searching through every one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only he could return them all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you going to do now, Keiji?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I could do it alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>problem</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you think you have to do everything alone.” Kuroo hisses. “You know how long I pestered Tsukishima and Yamaguchi to check up on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, and I’m grateful for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why didn’t you tell us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you were at least talking to them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you being so difficult?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you are. You’re acting like an overdramatic high schooler.” Kuroo clenches and unclenches his fist, he’s clearly becoming annoyed. Keiji could care less. He wants to go home, wherever the hell it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up, meeting his angry eyes. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you hiding?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit.” Kuroo clicks his tongue. “You’re full of shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo, calm down.” Bokuto bites his lip. “Maybe he’s just scared of telling us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I clearly am.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then he should learn to communicate better.” Kuroo slams his back on the chair, impatiently tapping his feet on the broken cement slab underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t want to be there anymore. The sight of Bokuto makes him feel like he’s in a tight space, his body heating up. He’s so far, yet he feels too close. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t what I wanted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His head repeated Bokuto’s name, memorizing his voice in the mornings, the excited yelling on the court. He remembers the high five they shared, the breaths he takes in between his speech. He was a confident boisterous self, fist pumping and hugging him when he graduated.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not what I want.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s torn, divided between what he did want versus what he does want. He can’t see a clear view of  goals, it flurries with papers and ramen cups. That’s how things used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I want that? Will I really be happy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He questions himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Will I be happy with Bokuto? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure, his heart is tugging in different directions. It hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t see.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at his cup, the white cup with a brown cardboard sleeve to keep the head away. It was still hot anyways. He doesn’t like espresso, they were gross. If he wanted caffeine he’d drink a red bull. But he hates energy drinks, he thinks of caffeine as a ticket of no sleep and working for hours on end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cafe au lait.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He never liked coffee until Tadashi proved him wrong. He always got Cafe au lait at the cafe, always like the foamed milk brushing and tickling his upper lip. His heart thumped in his chest, remembering the sound of a machine frothing hot milk in the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The memory of Bokuto fades in the back of his mind, his head scatters around with Tadashi’s and Kei’s voice. The sweetness of them welcoming home makes him feel hotter. Their morning coffee and breakfast was routine. He used to wake up and go straight to work, but he can’t seem to do anything without his coffee. He’s not sure if it’s because of the lack of coffee in the early mornings or the lack of Tadashi and Kei.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every thought he had jumbled in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei’s eyes glowed in his mind, his golden planet orbs shining brighter against a night sky. He was like a full moon, handsome, alluring, and graceful. His voice mellow and crisp, he’s craving it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi.” Bokuto calls out to him, snapping his thoughts back into a jar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I isolated myself on purpose.” He finally says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell would you do that?” Kuroo spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I could be alone.” Keiji shrugged, dropping the stirrer. He sat up straight, looking Kuroo past his shoulder. Thoughts were occupying too much space. He wants to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re bullshitting.” Kuroo spits out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto gasps from his left. “Kuroo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m sick and tired of it.” Kuroo splays his palms out, ready to push himself up. “So spill it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I fell in love with my best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The small bundle of feelings he had for him was tightly tangled together, begging for a wire to be pulled out. He was almost cracking at the seams. His heart lurches forward when Bokuto speaks up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. Don’t say my name like that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His tone was lilting, a sad chorus line. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even when you’re sad, it’s beautiful.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to go back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re worried about you. It’s not like you to drop the face of the earth for work. You can tell us anything.” Bokuto is pulling at his heart strings unknowingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji is wanting, his desire to trace his jawline and kiss the corners of his lips. He felt like he was relapsing to something addictive. Bokuto is in the past. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you.” He adds. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop. Please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you too.” Keiji couldn’t stop the words from slipping out. It was half true.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, just stop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can stay over at mine for a bit.” Bokuto offers. “We can catch up and watch dumb movies if you’re still on break. Or we can-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept your offer.” Keiji turns his head away, unable to face him. “I have to do this alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a-” Kuroo bites his tongue. “You’re hiding from us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shakes his head. “I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another pause, the air shifting uncomfortably between them. Keiji wants to throw his coffee away, his mouth waters for something smoother. Kuroo clicked his tongue behind his teeth, his legs shaking in anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t waste our time.” He stood up, pushing his seat back and stormed off. His fists hidden in his pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto sat there, shocked and nervous. He was antsy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can go too, Bokuto-san.” Keiji grabs his cup, slowly tilting it to the ground. The action going unnoticed by everyone around. The sound of liquid hitting cement was harsher than he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi…” Bokuto looks at him, his eyes glassy and tired. “Don’t you miss us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hate espressos.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji keeps pouring the coffee to the ground, he doesn't care how inappropriate he’s being.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I hate being in love with you more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji crushes the cup in his hands. He barely throws the cup into the bin before walking down the street. It’s getting late and cold, he had a thin sweater and no keys to go back to the apartment. His phone was at 32%. He wants to do nothing but stay on the two seater sofa and cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows his head is a mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows his thoughts are all over the place, that’s what a mess means.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s halfway down an unknown street until his phone buzzes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Yama</b>
</p><p>
  <b>hey! how’s it going?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles, his vision blurs before him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Akaashi</b>
</p><p>
  <b>terrible.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s about to shut down his phone until Tadashi starts calling him. His heart stutters, butterflies fly and hit the walls in his stomach. A few teardrops fall onto the screen. He’s wiping it, accidentally swiping the green button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! You answered!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called.” Keiji let out a small chuckle, slightly sniffing. The tip of his nose is being bitten by the cold. He sniffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you crying?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Darn you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s silence for a few seconds before Keiji and Tadashi talk at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, you go first.” Keiji awkwardly mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay, you go.” He felt like Tadashi was probably bowing in apology in person right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cute.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well. We kind of got into a fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn't go well huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want us to pick you up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.” He hears three beeps from his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>22%</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like you need it.” He can hear Tadashi smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sighs, rubbing his temples with two fingers. “I really messed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re my friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why can’t I just move on? I'm so confused and it hurts. I don't know what to do. My head is a mess and it's tiring.” He rambles on, his chest hurts from either talking or the pain he's keeping in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you and Kei and I don't know what to do. But I also kind of love Bokuto? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not easy, Keiji.” He said his given name like a sweet canorous bird chirping among the morning dew. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m turning into a cheesy shoujo manga character.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He mentally gags at himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find your answer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On?” He’s confused for a few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re in love with Bokuto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, he forgot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He touched my hand.” He lifts his left hand, moving it around in the small light above him. It’s getting darker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei says, send your location.” He muted himself, finding his address and sending a quick text to the blonde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Yamaguchi?” He bites his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know if you’re in love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears soft sounds coming from the other side, a coffee pot turning on and heating up water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to be with them. You accept them, everything you find out about them, becomes something you love.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s the sound of something being put in an electric outlet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you make their coffees their favorite way.” He hears a foaming machine in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you making coffee?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm. I’m foaming the milk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For me?” He hopes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you.” His heart drops. There’s taps against the sink and a rush of water running. Keiji doesn’t say anything else, he likes the sound of the coffee pot grinding and boiling the water. He closes his eyes, listening intently on the soft clinks of spoons tinkling the sides of a mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi-san?” He takes his time opening his eyes, blinking away the spots from the bright lights above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” He hums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Tsukishima close?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He should be, he left a while ago.” Tadashi clears his throat. “I’ll see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Keiji says quick see you later before shutting his phone off. The yellow light above him grew intense as the night continued to darken. He shifted nervously, his heart beat racing as cars passed by. He forgot what color Kei’s car was. He’s seen it once when they forced him out of his apartment.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should call my landlord.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t behind on rent, but he knew he didn’t have enough left to pay for the next month. He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Purple circles littered his vision, blinking them away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A car came to stop on the curb, headlights blinding him more for a few seconds. He brought a hand to obscure the brightness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone vibrated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kei</b>
</p><p>
  <b>get in.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So his car matches the inside decor of the apartment. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Plain white. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what are you doing this far from the cafe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You literally walked to the other side of town.” Kei scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shrugged. “I didn’t realize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just walked out of enjoyment?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei didn’t ask any further. He focused on the traffic lights. Green, yellow, and red reflected off their glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go back to the apartment.” Keiji taps his thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For?” Kei turns to the left, they’re about 5 streets closer to the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were staying with us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s due.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s knee shakes along with his taps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you nervous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you so fidgety?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grips his knee, forcing himself in pain to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, we have an extra room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s your office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically, it’s the both of ours. But we have space for you manga stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji snickers. “Manga stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how it all works.” Kei turns to the right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>2 streets away from home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to intrude.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>1 street away from home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you care if I stay at your place?” Keiji has the guts to ask. Maybe he has a death wish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re quiet.” Kei actually responds. “And you don’t cause a fuss like the others. I mean, you have your depressive episodes but it’s not like we haven’t gone through with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you have dep-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re home.” Kei cuts him off, taking his keys out. He opens the car door and waits. “And for the record, I don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji is left in the car, unlocked. He ponders over going back to the apartment to move out or to go back and add more garbage to his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I still have work to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows they need him back, he’s good at his job. Frustration builds in the back of his head, his entire back is rigid from stress.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ping!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes his phone out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>15%</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he needs a new phone, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tadashi</b>
</p><p>
  <b>get in here! coffee is gonna go cold &gt;:(</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>also dinner is ready! :)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a ghost smile traced on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ping!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Kei</b>
</p><p>
  <b>are you coming or not? i gotta lock the car. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks up the dashboard. Kei is dangling his keys, waiting outside of the lobby’s entrance. He raises his eyebrows, questioning Keiji.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you coming?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji lets himself smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m coming.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <span>“How bad was it?” Tadashi slid a bowl of rice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo got angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei snickered. “That’s funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei.” Tadashi pinched his arm. “Who else was there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei pouted a little, rubbing the red spot. Keiji thought he was too cute for his own good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto.” He hesitated over the name. It felt foreign and almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>forbidden</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei dropped his pout. “And?” He accepted a pair of chopsticks</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He missed me.” He shoved rice into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you miss him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thinks it’s amusing Kei has a sudden interest in his love life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure.” He backtracks to the words he said before he left. “Maybe.” He doesn’t feel like solving his messed up puzzle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe?” Tadashi passed over the soy sauce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not entirely sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei sighed. “I’m confused as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs in response, mouth full of grilled chicken goodness.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Believe me, if I could tell you, I would.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should talk to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji drops his head into his palms. “I just did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In private.” Tadashi folds his arms on the table, looking over to him softly. “Maybe you just need to be alone with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should just tell him.” Kei gulps down his water, small droplets from the condensation fall down his fingers. Keiji licks his dried lips, the desire to reach over and lick the water off of them entices him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t just tell him I like him when it’s a possibility I don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s a possibility that you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. It’s confusing. I don’t want to make it worse than it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess that’s true.” Kei thinks it over. “The only way you’ll find out is to be alone with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji stares down, his food teasing the lines of his stomach. Burying your problems with food was much easier and tempting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I don’t like him.” He’s not sure anymore. He still had some feelings, but he wasn’t sure. The thought of Kei and Tadashi always drowned Bokuto out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Kei sneaked off a piece of meat from Tadashi’s plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat your vegetables.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji rubs his eyes with the heel of his palms, wishing the spots would consume him whole. The sweet couple bickering over vegetables made his heart ached.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wouldn’t it be nice to have something like that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants what he can’t have. And that hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi-san.” He looks up. Worried warm eyes with a sprinkle of care looked keenly at him. His heart raced against no one, yet he was still losing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to watch a movie, you want to join us?” Tadashi wraps a hand around the cup, the other clutching the handle. Everything he did was adorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji let his mind fester a list of things he needed to do. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Work. Work. Work. Movie. Work. Work. Work. Tadashi. Kei. Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’ll have me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Tadashi’s chairs slide behind him, grabbing plastic wrapped bags of popcorn from a cupboard. Kei coughs to cover his chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He gets too excited sometimes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wants to comment on it but he’s distracted at Kei’s longing glance towards his boyfriend. He watches his small smile, the corners of his lips relaxed against his cheeks. It wasn’t those forced smiles you put up when a camera is aimed at you. It was a real small smile full of love.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I smile like that to Bokuto?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure if he wants to know. Will it hurt him if he did?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsukishima-san.” His name slips out, almost tempted to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kei</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just to say his delicious name once. Kei was a confection with strawberries topped on top, a dessert melting in his mouth. He wanted to lick the whipped cream off, savoring the creaminess as Kei unzips-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that got out of hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right. Focus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you and Yamaguchi-san meet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei opened his mouth, whether his answer was snarky or sincere, he’ll never know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was bullied.” The microwave turned on with the press of a few buttons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You?” How can anyone hurt a confectionary so rare and delicate and beautiful like him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi had his arms on the counter, watching the bag of popcorn inflate with a buttery salty surprise. “In elementary school, kids don’t really know the difference between freckles and pimples.” His scoff was crude and ornery. It’s as if he was mocking himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi-” Kei couldn't get another word in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like my freckles.” The microwave beeps three times before slamming the button to pop it open. “But kids don’t know better.” He tosses the next bag in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yamaguchi.” Keiji breathes out his name like a dragonfly skipping over the water, ripples left behind its wakening. Just saying his name makes his body tingle with guilty pleasure. “You’re quite amazing, even if you don’t see it. Tsukishima can vouch for this as well. You’ve done many things, but the fact you took me in and convinced Tsukishima-san to let me stay here, it’s phenomenal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingernails tap against his cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s right.” Keiji jumps in his seat. He almost forgot Kei was right there. Curse Tadashi and his cuteness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At first, I was completely against having him, but you woke me up at 2 am to talk me into it. You were right, we do have a lot in common, we struggle with our emotions and wallow in our depression.” Kei stands up, walking to his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi stumbles backwards, slightly afraid of what Kei was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be proud of yourself, will you?” Kei wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him in to rest his head on his shoulder. “What more do you need than pride?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches, awkwardly shifting in his chair. His butt was falling asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi-san, come here.” He looked up, Tadashi holding an arm out. “I got two shoulders for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji has never moved quicker, his body must have been injected with a double espresso. He flew into his arms, almost crashing them back into the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei and Tadashi laughed, Keiji mumbling a string of apologies, his head digging into his shoulder with embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There, there.” Tadashi rubbed the back of their heads, a cluster of bodies tangling together in warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish I could be with you. I want this to last forever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji hasn’t cried in awhile, he hates the sticky feeling on his cheeks. It burned his eyes and left him rather empty. He sniffed, trying to suck back the tears in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi.” He tore his head away, rubbing his eyes with his arm and shaking his head roughly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi-san.” Kei whispered. “Come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opened his eyes, widening in surprise. He wanted to see them badly, blurry spots of yellow and green engulfed him, his heart racing way past the finish line. He wanted to take his heart back, retreat to his small room, dirty and devoid of any life. He didn’t get far when a hand pulled his arm back in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Akaashi-san.” Tadashi’s voice was gentle, his breath tickling his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sniffled, his hand gripping a fistful of someone’s shirt and the other rubbing circles onto his back. He can’t picture their position, but he feels two warm bodies against, and that’s all he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beeping interrupted their moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, that scared me.” Kei jumped, almost toppling them over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should uh, go watch that movie.” Keiji laughs, wiping his tears with the bottom of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys go get the sofa ready, I’ll bring out the popcorn.” Tadashi slides out of their holds.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for all that.” Kei brings out two blankets, they were too small for three people but Keiji didn’t mind. He’s used to having a blanket to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should be thanking you guys, I’m literally crashing into your apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We want you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m basically third wheeling you two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Third-wheeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei hands a blanket to Keiji, his hand not letting go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” Keiji didn’t want to be rude, it’s not his blanket afterall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on.” Kei takes back the blanket, walking to his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d Kei go?” Tadashi walks in with a big bowl of popcorn, almost overflowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re sharing one bowl?” Keiji's chest rises, his breathing stuttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Tadashi sets it down on the coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Kei returns with a large blanket, soft and velvety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a dinosaur pattern?” Keiji thought Kei was the cutest tsundere he’s ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” Kei grumbled, sitting on the left side and patting the seat next to him. Tadashi joins him and spreads the blanket over them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji stands awkwardly, moving slowly to Tadashi’s side. He sat on the far right, not wanting to be near or touch them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei rolls his eyes. Tadashi slaps his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” He tugs his wrist, practically digging into Tadashi’s side. “There.” He lifts the blanket to cover his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was too scared to move, his heart was in his throat, he was sure of it. “Are you sure this is okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you not okay with it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m great.” Keiji blurts out. Tadashi giggles, switching the tv app to Netflix.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, who is ready to marathon Hannibal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god we just ate dinner.” Kei inches closer to Tadashi, the temptation to kiss his forehead and eyelids made his body stiffen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji agreed, humming softly. Tadashi’s shoulder was warm, his neck had light freckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has work to do, he knows it, but he can’t seem to get the stars and moon out of his head. He had the whole freaking universe right next to him. He was barely in reach of it, his hand itched to grasp it and hold it tightly against his chest. He wants to so badly be a part of it. He wants to be with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then there’s Bokuto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s going to have to face him eventually. His heart didn’t race at the thought of him, but his head was hazy. He’s still unsure.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Forget it Keiji, you never get what you want.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to go back to work soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can never have what they have.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he should drown himself in work and never see the light. Maybe he should chug down a double espresso, hands flurrying over papers and computers, headaches making his entire body feel like shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should just go back to how I was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was hurting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi-san.” He turns to see Tadashi reach out to him, his palm soft and hot, touching his shoulder. “Come.” He pulls him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei rests his head on Tadashi’s shoulder. “You don’t have to wallow in your depression alone, you know?” He tilts his head up, pointing out to Tadashi’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure, Yamaguchi-san?” Keiji still wants to make sure. His hopes were rising and he hated every bit of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It hurts so much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me Tadashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It hurts even more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you call me Keiji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji learns Tadashi had lots of freckles on him, it splatter over his body like a night sky, painting a monument he’ll never forget. He wanted to be part of their universe, part of the treasure they created together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Keiji could be with them, he wanted to be neverending space around them, holding them close to him, wrapping them completely in the love he’ll never let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to be with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he wasn’t in love with him, maybe he was. He still had a part to play in his confusing ‘love’ crisis. But he couldn’t think of him anymore when he let his head rest on Tadashi. His thighs pressed against him, the blanket on top warming his entire body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He never wanted to let go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ll have to let go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cause Keiji never gets what he wants.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>drink water. have a nice day.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. triple espresso</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>chug that coffee and hope for the best.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keiji looked at the time, watching it slip away. His fingers tapped against the sofa’s armrest, feeling his nails scrape against it. It burned the tip of his fingers with every harsh scratch. He needed it. He desperately needed the feeling of pain anywhere else besides his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop that.” Kei busies himself, sweeping every corner of the room. “You’ll ruin it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sighs, flips over to lie on his stomach. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cleaning.” Kei responds. “Duh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji scowls. Sometimes he’s not sure how they can live under the same roof. It wasn’t his first decision afterall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone buzzes, the contact name screaming from the lockscreen. Keiji swipes it and answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” Kei rests his arms on the headrest, smugly sneering at him. Keiji waves a hand over, hoping it would push him away. He doesn’t budge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He tries to push Kei off, but he’s a lot stronger than he looks. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When did he become so buff?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sent an email about work?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji brings his hand back, biting on his thumb’s nail. He thought he broke out of the habit years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, lucky for you, we have many things for you to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gr-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you are behind schedule so you’ll have to overwork yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t be getting paid for the hours you work at home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see…” His voice trails off, the joyous moment of finally getting his life on track crumbles. “Do I come to the office today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets out a mute sigh. “Alright, I’ll be there in the afternoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. How does 12:30 sound?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pulls his phone away, looking at the top right corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>11:45 am.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” The phone clicks right after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pinches the bridge between his eyes, the stress from months prior to his mini vacation comes back to haunt him. He doesn’t miss the gruesome hours of editing and cleaning that comes with every page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re going back to work?” Kei watches him, studying the annoyed look on his phone. Of course he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>enjoy watching others suffer, but he still won’t turn them down if he can help in any way. He’s not that mean. To some people.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Some.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lets his fingers go, the skin turning red. “I guess I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was it?” Tadashi walks into the living room, holding a white basket of washed clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to be there at 12:30.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you don’t say ‘sure’ in a professional workfield.” Kei makes his way to Tadashi, helping him carry the load to the coffee table. Part of the clothes belonged to Keiji after finally moving all of his things in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shrugs, taking the first piece of clothing on top of the small mountain. “I don’t think they care anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why not?” Kei picks up a sock, stretching it over his thumb and letting it fly across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t play with my clothes.” Keiji isn’t the mood to argue or play around, his back tenses from unheard pressure already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should relax.” Tadashi lays his palms flat against his back, pressing down on his shoulder blades. “You shouldn’t stress over anything. You just moved in, take it one step at a time.” He rubs his thumbs hard against him, making strong circles, pressing down to smooth the knots forming in his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei takes a shirt, letting it flap open and snickering at the contents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” He turns it around, biting on his own remark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a shirt with a cat in glasses and money all around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto gave that to me last christmas.” Keiji felt his cheeks grow hot. His back tensed even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks nice.” Tadashi struggled to keep himself from laughing, his snickering escaping his lips every few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi!” Keiji liked saying his given name. It was sweet and gentle, loving and beautiful. It matched him so well. It would have been wholesome if he wasn’t laughing at him for having a ridiculous shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a great christmas gift from someone like Bokuto-san.” Tadashi cleared his throat, resuming his massage. “Do you need us to give you a ride?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean me?” Kei tosses the shirt on the sofa, far away from Keiji’s reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji scowls at him, trying to reach over with his fingers, but not wanting to pull away from Tadashi’s god gifted hands. “No, I’ll be fine with the bus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you get there in time?” Tadashi wonders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think if I leave now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. You get ready then, I’ll make sure to make your lunch.” He moves to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Keiji scrambles, his blanket tangling at his ankles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei laughs as he tries to stop himself from eating the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei, help him!” Tadashi pours coffee into a thermal, scolding his boyfriend with a disappointed mother look. Suga taught him well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei rolls his eyes, stepping around the table to lend a hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes advantage. He takes his hand, pulling it hard to make Kei’s feet totter, letting him fall sideways onto the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mother-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-trucker.” Keiji beams above him, his arms crossed over the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I win.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei humphs, watching Keiji walk away from the corner of his eye. He steps down on the edge of the blanket, Keiji tripping over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“F-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys, seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-UDGE.” Keiji smacks his back against the hard floor, his entire body screaming for an end of his suffering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei walks past him, a shit-eating grin on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I win.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji can practically hear him say it. That irks him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Tadashi carries a silver thermal and a cute wrapped bento box. “I hope you don’t mind honey sesame chicken and rice. There’s some broccolini in it, I don’t know if you remember eating last week.” He hands it to him, smiling as Keiji peeks at the strawberry patterned cloth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you.” Tadashi nods, his smile radiating too bright for the hour. At least, it felt like he was trapped between two suns, but that could be because he prefers one over the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He mumbled, ignoring the snickering behind him. He sticks his tongue at Kei. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smell ya later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Punk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loser.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei!” Tadashi takes a wooden spoon, slapping the backside of Kei’s head. “Be nice!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t stay to listen. His stomach twists envious knots. His breathing loses control when he reaches the elevator, he almost drops the bento box.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how was your vacation?” The small woman behind the desk types away on her computer. He hates this process, waiting around for a paycheck, waiting to sign in. Just waiting around in general when he just wants to get home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was fine.” He’s not in the mood for small talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you go?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I moved apartments.” He hopes this was enough for her to stop asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh nice!” She did. “Alright, so the boss made sure to leave all the work at your desk…” Her voice trails off, looking behind her are desks neatly put side by side. There’s only one big pile on a certain desk that made the stress and guilt heavily weigh down his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er…” He could see the worry on her face, her eyebrows scrunched up and biting her bottom lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.” He makes his way around, sitting down on the hard chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I kind of miss this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thinks of it as a good distraction from everything, that was until his phone vibrates in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>hey! let me know how it goes and if you’re not busy after work, we can go out for dinner as a mini celebration</b>
</p><p>
  <b>don’t worry it’s just you and me. kei has to stay late tonight so he says to go out with you so im not alone :)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart thumps, he so desperately wants to say yes and hold his hand across the table and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cuts himself off. Tadashi was beginning to flood his head and he needed to focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>sure. i’ll text you when im almost out.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to bite off his hand. He’s supposed to focus, not agree to dinner plans with a forbidden crush. He shoves his phone into his pocket and gets back to work. The stack of papers didn’t seem to lessen as gruesome hours passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time it was lunch, he realized how much work he was behind and how much others didn’t want to do. Yes editing manga was a pain, but by now way should he do so much of it by himself. He looks around the room, the thought out plans on whiteboards and pinned schedules were messily spread around the room. He can see they did have a schedule, it was just him not being there to see it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess it makes sense, this was a project I decided to take.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was last minute he decided to take it on to make up for the time he’s been away. It’s only fair he supposes. He shakes his head, finishing the last bite of chicken. He hasn’t had such a delicious bento since high school. As much as he misses his mother’s cooking, he slightly hopes Tadashi could make more for him, but he wants to be responsible for himself, too. He’s an adult, he can cook. At least he thought he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Does heating up water for a cup of noodles count?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>how’s work?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s stomach flipped over. His fingers smashed the keyboard.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>il;mf ine</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>are you okay? lol</b>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingertips felt hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>lol I’m fine. work is okay ig</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>you’re having dinner with tadashi right?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>yeah. are you okay with that?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>why wouldn’t i be? he can do what he wants. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>i thought you didn’t trust me, is all.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>i trust you and you don’t make him nervous like the others do. but if he has an anxiety attack, call me. other than that, you’ll both be fine.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Others as in Kuroo and Bokuto? Keiji felt a little proud of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>what about your friends, Hinata and Kageyama?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>volleyball consumes their life. it’s their literal job.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji remembers the small blonde girl from Karasuno.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>What about that blonde girl?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Yachi? She hasn’t been in contact that much. pretty busy tbh</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>I see… </b>
</p><p>
  <span>He chews on his thumb’s nail, he’s not sure why he’s nervous. Not like Kei can just appear out of nowhere and-</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>i’ll pick you both up after dinner. enjoy your date lol</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s entire body went fuzzy like opening a can of soda, he was tingly all over. At least he wasn’t eating. He can’t imagine the embarrassment of choking on food in an empty room. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>&gt;:(</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He humphs, satisfied with the emoticon.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>&gt;:)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Dang it, the way Kei makes him feel was all fuzzy and gross, but also really cute. Keiji wasn’t expecting him to send one back. He smiles down at the phone, a new surge of confidence spews from his fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>better watch out, i’ll steal him away lol</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>LOL it’s on. fight me behind the garbage post @ the apartments nerd</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>bring it you lanky pole</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>loool ok i got to work. see you later dummy</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>later beanhead</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji couldn’t stop smiling, his heart pitter-patters in his chest. His lungs tighten, the air gets heavier. He can’t believe he just said all that.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tough talk to cover up your feelings? Great job, Keiji!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs to focus, his body was spiralling out of control. Work.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just think about work, then worry about the date.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, finally pulling the papers and pens towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Date? It’s not a date.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, lining up the rulers and erasers.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It kind of is-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He slams his head on the desk, everything jumps from the collision. Table and head do not mix, he can tell you from that experience. A pencil rolls off the edge, he makes no move to catch it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel like I’m dreaming.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart swelling at the image of Tadashi across from him, the white table cloth on the table was perfectly free of any wrinkles and lines. His phone buzzes, taking it out with a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Hey. I’m sorry for the way I acted. Look, I won’t force you to talk, but you can tell me anything. Tsukishima told me you’ve been under the weather and needed to be alone to figure some stuff out, so I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Also, Bokuto has been missing you a lot.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s sigh was a mix of exasperation and fatigue. His left arm numbing out, needing a good walk around the neighborhood. When he sat up, the stack of papers seemed to tower over him, each rough draft in need of cleaning up and editing, it was all too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>I’ll think about it, I have plans after work.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He confidently hums as he sends the message.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Alright. Just let me know when you’re available. I could stop by at your workplace for lunch or something.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bites his cheek, he wishes he has plans all the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>I have practice tmr with the team, but I’m free lunch if you want to hang out. Tadashi says he has to work in the afternoon.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>rip</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>rude.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He snickers.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>sure. pick me up. i’ll send the location beforehand.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>cool.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He slides over to the next conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>I have lunch plans with a friend. I’ll look over my agenda and let you know when I’m free.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Holy hell dude, why do you have plans almost everyday?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t seem to think he does, but living with a domestic couple with errands to run and he happens to be included, he’s quite lucky he has someone to spend his time with. Even if they don’t like him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>I’m not sure. I’ll talk to you later, I got to get back to work.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He really doesn’t, his lunch doesn’t really end for another 10 minutes. He just wants to finish as soon as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Alright, later.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji debates taking a few back to the apartment, the offer of using their office still stands. He shakes his hand, he doesn’t want to burden them any further, despite Tadashi’s words of ‘always welcomed’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone goes off a few times, he loses it the second he works on the draft in front of him. It wasn’t important anway, it was a single buzz. If it was an emergency, he’d be spammed with calls and endless vibrations, today, it was just him and his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sadly.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The clock’s ticks were tormenting, each one made Keiji’s head ache more as it finally reached 9:00 pm. He throws the ruler aside, head falling back on the chair. His entire body gave way, fully laxing into the hard desk chair. His stomach is doing a bajillion flips, he was nervous but more excited than anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s had dinner at home with them one on one, sometimes Tadashi had to work at night so he and Kei would eat whatever Tadashi prepared beforehand. It always ended up with them arguing about silly things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles at the faint memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How could a dinosaur lose against a Kaiju?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aren’t they basically the same thing?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How dare you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles, rubbing his palm’s sweat off on his pants. He was calming down, thankfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clocking out?” He jumped at the voice. It was a different woman at the front desk, her notebook showed a schematic of mathematics. He only recognizes a fourth of it, not really needing the knowledge of Laplace Transform. He’s not an engineer and definitely refuses to have a career in anything related to physics. He’s done it before in high school, and that’s where it’ll stay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He looks back at the stacks of paper, sighing at the tall pile. “I’ve done a lot, but it just feels like I didn’t do much.” He sighs out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what you mean.” She nods, typing on her numpad. “But once you get back to schedule, the workload shouldn’t be too stressful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji uncovers his phone from a stack of crumpled paper. He turns on the power button, being welcomed to a message from someone he wants nothing to do with, especially now.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>1 new message from Bokuto.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the back of his neck ache. “I miss working, but not on these chairs.” He rubs at the spot, wishing he could teleport back to the apartment. The sofa seemed a better place to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the only one.” Her hair was a pale pink, her earrings had small kiwis dangling. Keiji wonders if he should get some. “Lots of people complain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji cracks a crick on his neck. “I can see that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I signed you out already, so you’re free to go.” Her nails were a deep blue, the kind that settles when the sun sets. The shred of orange-yellow hues disappearing behind the sky’s draperies. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if Tadashi is as excited as I am.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” He shoves his phone into a pocket, fingers tapping it from the outside. “Oh right.” He takes it out again, almost forgetting to text Tadashi. He should have done it earlier, his mind was tunnel-visioning his work. It was refreshing, he missed the arduous sweating work. The reward at the end was always kind of worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>im out of work</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>keiji! you should have messaged me earlier :(</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>sorry, i was really into it</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>how was it? was it good?!</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>very. work was fun, kind of. a bit tired but it’s been awhile. kind of refreshing.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>that’s good! want me to meet up at the place?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a few seconds to think. He swings the bat.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>i can meet at the bus stop. we’ll walk together.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>okay! see you soon!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He hits a homerun. Luckily, the location wasn’t too far from work, it was a nice casual restaurant. He wasn’t underdressed, and the weather was getting colder when night settled. He didn’t come prepared but that was the last thing on his mind. He got to see an angel after a hard day’s work. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if that’s how Tsukishima feels?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wonders how much life would be different if he had someone to come home to. A pair of arms wrapping around him and a head cuddled beneath his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes. He takes it out, too high off of his imagination to read who it was from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he wishes he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Bokuto:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Akaaashi :( i missss youuuuu</b>
</p><p>
  <b>are you busy tonight? :D let’s get dinner!!!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops walking, unaware he’s at the stop. There’s a drop from his chest, settling uncomfortably at the bottom of his stomach. It’s a creepy feeling, slithering down to his toes. He hates it. He doesn’t want to feel anything like it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?” He turns around, his heart skips a beat at the sight. Tadashi stood with a sweater in his hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His </span>
  </em>
  <span>sweater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi.” He winces, the name rolls out with a crack. “You’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Tadashi shuffles around. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks back to his phone. The small check mark under the message for the whole world to see he saw it. It makes him feel bitter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He shuts his phone off. His entire mood bent backwards from a single message. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji, was it from Bokuto-san?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whips his head around. “Yeah. How’d you…” He trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seemed kind of sad when you looked at your phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saw that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Tadashi offers the black sweater. Plain yet nice. Simple, just the way Keiji liked things. Just the way he wanted his life to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life never goes the way you plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s fine.” He reassures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s alright with you.” Tadashi mindlessly shrugs, his head nods side to side, humming. Their steps are slightly out of beat, nowhere near matching, but Keiji wasn’t bothered. For years, he did his best to keep on the same page as everyone else, so for once it was nice to just be himself without needing to satisfy others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it wasn’t like that with Bokuto. But maybe that’s why he fell in love with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the fact Bokuto saw him like he mattered, and he did, just not in the way he wanted. But is it what Keiji really wanted? Could he ever know what he wanted?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever wondered if Tsukishima-san didn’t reciprocate your feelings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi paused his humming. “Keiji…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you thinking Bokuto might not feel the same way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji gnawed on his lower lip, his palms were sweating in his pockets. He’s feeling nervous like he’s confessing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop biting your lip.” Tadashi takes his arm and tugs, making Keiji face him. “Tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t we go inside first?” He’s stalling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First, you tell me what’s on your mind.” Tadashi stomps a foot down. “So spill.” He crosses his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thinks over for a few seconds, carefully putting words together. He doesn’t want to slip up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He extends the word. “I guess, I know he doesn’t feel the same way?” That didn’t sound right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He clears his throat. The bright white lights from inside the restaurant burned the edges of his eyes. His neck is getting cold, the hairs on it rise and wave in the wind. He cringes at the feeling, wanting nothing more than for Oikawa’s alien friends to abduct him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi waits patiently, unbothered by the weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s throat feels cool, the beautiful man before him in front of all the lights from the buildings behind him. Tiny cracks of it spilled onto the sides of his face, a few freckles stood out. The view was unquestionably revitalizing, a fresh cup of water soothing his dry and dull mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I uh…” He shakes his head, trying his best to snap out of it. But the image still stays in his mind. “I guess in a way, I might not like him as much as I did. It was kind of like a high school crush.” He’s unsure of his words, losing his path the moment he started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you think it’s just infatuation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it because he makes you feel something you’ve never felt like before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounds about right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. In a way, he made me feel like his word and he was my star.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi giggled. “That sounds so cheesy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s shoulders and back felt really, really hot. The fabric of his shirt made him want to take it off and run so the wind can cool him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get it together, Keiji. You can’t strip in front of Tadashi.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He awkwardly chuckled. “I guess it does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But does he make you feel like that now?” Tadashi tilts his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks up, a group of clustered stars gather around. He tries to recognize any constellations, but nothing comes to mind, that or he’s too distracted to even think straight. Not like he was straight to begin with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” His mouth spills out. “Not anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that solves everything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks down. Tadashi sticks to his side, wrapping an arm around his. He blinks a few times before feeling his face burn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Solves what exactly?” His voice almost falters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Infatuation is easily confused with love, but if you just like the way he makes you feel then maybe you don’t really love him.” Tadashi pulls him along, the front doors just meters away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, it’s nothing but a teen crush?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi snickers. “Teen? We’re well above 21, Keiji.” He teases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right.” Keiji allows himself to relax into his touch. He could feel Tadashi lightly squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Kei and I thought this weekend would be good for you to talk to him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, I forgot about that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” He doesn’t say more. There was nothing left to say. Keiji pulls himself out of Tadashi’s grip to open the door, his fingers clasp the cold handle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?” He turns around, watching his shadow behind grow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m falling in love with you and your boyfriend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ever find someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like?” Keiji’s heart swells at the hint of concern he catches when Tadashi asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you and Tsukishima.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, it was a stu-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if you don’t, you’ll always have us.” Keiji’s eyes were stuck to the ground, his ears were ringing terribly loud. He’s not sure if Tadashi is still talking, but the corner of his eyes are threatening to spill the entire fucking ocean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?” He can’t move or hear anything. He wasn’t devastated, he was just so…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji!” He blinks, a few tears spilling. His vision was obscured by them, but he could clearly see the small ahoge bouncing around in the wind in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t cry!” Tadashi’s face rubs in his sweater. “You’ll make me cry!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Keiji laughs, bigger tears streamed down his face. He takes both hands to pull Tadashi’s head away from him. “I’m just really happy.” He stares down at his dark brown coffee-like eyes. They were beautiful, with tears in them he could have sworn he was staring down at the same cup of coffee when he first went into their apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loves them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loves both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absolutely everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loves it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi smiles in between his palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, not to interrupt but is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji jumps, his hands fly off to hang mid-air. He holds them up in a surrender, looking straight behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi whirls around, rubbing the stray tears away. “Oh! Kenma!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kozume-san.” Keiji nods at him, his hands behind his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someone end me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi. Tadashi.” Kenma shrugs. “Are you two okay? You both were crying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Keiji leaves his mouth ajar. The words dying out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re fine. Just some bonding.” Tadashi rubs the last tear with his sleeve. “Would you care to join us for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looks at them, his eyes moving side to side. He shakes his head. “No thanks, I have to get home soon. I got a stream to do.” He walks off, idly waving his hand behind him. “Later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji would like to feel relief, but for some reason, the way Kenma’s eyes were studying them, he for sure knows the truth. That’s a fact. That man knows almost everything when it comes to reading people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That means…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kuroo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to vent out a sigh of frustration, but Tadashi instantly pulled his arm, his thoughts were left behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For now, just enjoy it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The food was great, don’t get anyone wrong, it’s a nice casual restaurant where you can go out and hang out with friends. However, the one thing Keiji was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> expecting was how amazing Tadashi would look when he was laughing under white pristine lights and holding a teacup so properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked too lovely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what’s work like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Keiji blinked twice. “Oh, work. What about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi sipped noiselessly. “What’s it like working as a manga editor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm…” Keiji tapped his chin. “Well to start, it’s a lot of hands-on localization. I oversee the production work turned into manga and the translations. Along with graphic design and sound-effects, the touch-ups especially can be gruesome at times. But putting it altogether and seeing the end result turn into an amazing masterpiece, it’s all worth the sweat and blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No tears?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Many tears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They share a laugh, Tadashi’s laughter were chimes jingling with the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Keiji tugs the ends of his collar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Tadashi’s cheeks turn red. “Well, I guess you can say I’m in the IT field, but sometimes it’s just mindless technical stuff.” He shrugs. “Nothing fancy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sets aside everything. “Hold on.” His hands drum on the table. “What do you mean nothing fancy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi looks around, his eyes avoiding him. “It’s not anything as great as you and Kei.” He finally settles down to look at his tea, the pale drink rippling when he lifts it to his lips. “I’m normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t accept it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re amazing.” He shakes his head. “Being good with technology is a gift. Trust me. People at the office don’t even know how to turn off computers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They can’t be that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No really.” He leans in. “Even I struggle with it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi giggles, his cup empty on the table. He doesn’t ask for another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nods. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call Kei to pick us up in a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at him, questioning the last part of his sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to ask you something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Tiny moths flitter in his stomach. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is it, this is the end of all good things. I’m going to get kicked out and-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei lied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He actually went to get a desk for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi reaches over, his palm up. Keiji looks at it from the lines of his palms to the freckles on his wrists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got you a desk so you have a place to work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji slowly puts his hand in his, his hand instantly melting him in a puddle of love. His pulse rises, matching the flickers of a faltering light across the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” He didn’t dare to not ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because we care?” Tadashi stated as a matter of fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi tightens their hands together. “Keiji, we really do care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m a nobody.” He tries to argue, he didn’t want to cry a second time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say that.” Tadashi’s shoulders let go from his straight posture. “We want you to stay with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s eyes were becoming blurry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even Kei likes having you around.” Tadashi rubs a circle with his thumb. “I meant it when I said you’ll always have us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs shake under the table. “When did this all happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” Tadashi hadn’t let go. “I guess after a few months of you staying. You kind of just…” He shrugs, satisfied with his answer. “You grew on us. It feels like you belong, kind of like a missing piece of a puzzle we never thought of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that makes sense.” He throws out, giggling into his free hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches him, the lights showing every freckle on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His favorites are the ones on his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, now that we got all that ready, we should head home.” Tadashi pulls away, typing fast to Kei. He’s a quick typer, and one that hardly ever has any typos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amazing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to go home?” Tadashi starts to get up, sliding out of the booth. He looks over his shoulder, waiting for Keiji to make a move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew if he said no, he’d have to find a new home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his problem?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had already started calling their apartment </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks out the window, the light finally stays on. There’s a cat strutting underneath, mindlessly walking alone. Another cat jumps on top of him, playfully biting his ear. They run around each other until a third cat jumps in between. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were being cuddled in between the two, he can feel their purring from afar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He returns Tadashi’s gaze. “Let’s go home.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji is greeted with wood everywhere in the office. He’s never been in it, but he’s seen from the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say a word.” Kei lets the mallet hit the carpet underneath. “I can’t read a picture manual for shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei!” Tadashi sits beside him. “You could have asked for help!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Kei lets his head fall onto his boyfriend’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate that Tsukishima-san.” Keiji’s hands twitch, letting it hang on the edge of the door. He’s not sure to step in and help or just sleep the entire day away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first option seemed a lot more fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drop the honorific, will you?” Kei snides. “I think we’re long past that, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Keiji agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go make some coffee and we can work on this together.” Tadashi makes his way out, almost letting Kei drop to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei groans. “Oh no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at him. His interests piques. “What’s wrong with the coffee? He makes it the way we like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not it.” Kei drags his feet, grabbing the manual and shoving it into Keiji’s hands. “Memorize it, we’re gonna stay up all night for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at the confusing numbers and letters littered around the page. “Uhh, why all night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has work, they all do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because the last time we built a desk, he had to make triple espressos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s obsessed with doing things the same day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he thinks it’s fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji dropped the book, the pages fluttered around as it hit the ground. “Oh.” Realization hits him hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be a long night.” He comments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got the coffee.” Tadashi smugly smiles with a tray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei chugs his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks into it, gulping nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh boy.” He drinks it down, the hot liquid heating his entire throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi finishes his drink by the time Keiji puts it back on the tray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like you shot caffeine straight into my veins.” Keiji looks over at the couple, smiling when they start arguing about the instructions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe this is okay…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even if it hurts to see the ones you love be happy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Without you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Keiji. You can't just love two people who are already in a relationship. You fool.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>/sips coffee/<br/>ahh the pain. how refreshing.</p><p>opening up is hard. akaashi can vouch for me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. mocha</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>why keiji hates coffee:</p><p>1. mocha tastes gross.<br/>2. espressos taste gross.<br/>3. coffee tastes gross.<br/>4. if they're not made by tadashi, he doesn't want it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i ran out of coffee while editing this.</p><p>too broke to get more<br/>too broke to afford a will to live</p><p>ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHhhhh</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keiji sat back in his chair, the cushion softer and welcoming his back. He stretches his arms over his head, waiting for a soft pop.</p><p>“This beats the desk I have at work.” He groans, stretching his legs underneath the desk. The top of his feet taps the wall. He pulls back fast, thinking he might have caused a dent. </p><p>Keiji takes a quick look, there’s nothing but the wall. No cracks or dents. He sighs a relief, too tired to continue. He has a few weeks to catch up with work, though he’s been going at it nonstop, he still wants to make up for it.</p><p>The click clacks of a keyboard makes him turn around, curious and amazed. Kei types fast. His long fingers fly over the keyboard. Dashing, darting, and smacking the keys one by one with mere perfection. No typos so far.</p><p>“Does it?” Kei types away on his laptop, scrolling down a spreadsheet. Numbers confuse him whenever he looks over his shoulder, he can’t recognize any of the long latin names.</p><p>“What the hell is Ginkgo biloba?”</p><p>Kei stops, looking up beside him. His lips, soft and plush, curl into a small smile. “You want to find out in person?”</p><p>Keiji’s taken aback, but the daring hint he caught enticed him. It was exciting.</p><p>He likes a little bit of danger, despite his mother’s warnings when he was younger.</p><p>
  <em> Don’t get too close or you’ll fall hard. </em>
</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>“I’ll pick you up for lunch today.” Kei looks back down. “How’s ramen?”</p><p>Keiji made his way out of the office, his heart thundering in his chest. A heavy storm was making its way to his head. Doubts and mean words spewed out, heart panging with pain.</p><p>“Sounds great.”</p><p> </p><p>“Keiji?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“You don’t know how to make coffee do you?” Tadashi nimbly bites his lip, his hand fiddling with the kitchen towel.</p><p>Keiji sighs, head hanging with shame. “No.” All he wanted was a coffee, a break from Kei’s beautiful smile. Cafe au lait sounded so good, but he could never get the temperature of the milk right.</p><p>“You want the usual?” Tadashi bumped his hip, casting him to the side.</p><p>“Wait, lemme try again.” Keiji’s hand brushed over Tadashi’s, goose bumps popping up on his arms.</p><p>“No, I got it.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“I’m already heating up the milk.” Tadashi ties an apron quickly, stirring it along in a pot.</p><p>Keiji sits down slowly, his breathing calming down. Tadashi whisked and stirred, pouring fresh coffee into a white mug.</p><p>“I wish there were some color here.” Tadashi takes his time walking with two hot mugs in each hand.</p><p>“Why don’t you guys decorate?” Keiji stretches a hand to grab his cup, his teeth sucking in from the sudden pain.</p><p>“Kei isn’t good with decor.” Tadashi blows on his cup, watching it ripple. “I’m not sure what to put up anyway. Our tastes clash.” </p><p>Keiji set his cup on the table, his mouth watering. “I think,” he swallowed, “that’s the best part about decorating.”</p><p>Tadashi tilts his head.</p><p>“You can do whatever you want as long as it makes you feel at home.”</p><p>Tadashi hums, his eyes searching around the kitchen. There were white, black, linoleum floors and marble counters. Everything was too simple, basic.</p><p>“I think you’re right.” He sets his cup down easily, using his pinkie to make less noise. “You wanna go shopping this weekend?”</p><p>Keiji perked up in his seat. “Wait, why me? Shouldn’t Tsukishima be the one to help?”</p><p>Tadashi waves a  hand, laughing behind it. “Kei is terrible at decorating. It was always my job to be creative.”</p><p>“Besides, this is your home too.” He innocently adds. </p><p>Coming home to Tadashi made it easier to wake up early in the morning. </p><p>"Alright." Maybe this once Keiji will just enjoy things as it is. </p><p>"Cool!" </p><p>"Akaashi!" Kei rubs his eyes, yawning out a whine. "Oh, for me?" He leans over Tadashi, his long nimble fingers delicately holding the handle. </p><p>"Kei!" Tadashi wants to pull it back, but too scared of burning either one of them. So he settles with groaning, watching his tall boyfriend drink his coffee.</p><p>“Mmm.” Kei emphasizes, the coffee is too sweet, yet so delicious. It made his insides warm whenever he stole a sip. There was something so <em> Tadashi </em> in the coffee. He loved it, even if it wasn’t the way he enjoyed it.</p><p>“You don’t even like it sweet.” Tadashi moans, his head hitting against Kei’s stomach. </p><p>Kei uses his free hand, brushing Tadashi’s hair back. The hair tickling between his fingers, slowly letting it go when he pulls is halfway.</p><p>“I still like your coffee.” </p><p>Keiji’s drink scalds the back of his throat, coughing as quietly as possible. His gag reflex quicking in hard, sputtering into his palm.</p><p>“Keiji! Are you alright?” Tadashi tensed, his palms splayed on the table.</p><p>“I’m-cough-fine.” He can feel his entire throat burn, screaming out in pain. “Fuck.”</p><p>Kei chuckles, the cup already in front of Tadashi, rubbing his shoulders. “There’s a small shop near the museum.”</p><p>“Oh, I like that one. They have good ramen.” Tadashi reminisces.</p><p>“Sure. Whatever you like.” Keiji pounds his chest, hoping to get everything out. It was embarrassing enough he’s third wheeling them, but coughing at a domestic moment? He wants to crawl back to the sofa.</p><p>Utterly embarrassing.</p><p>Kei clicks his tongue, watching his watch flash a text. “Kuroo says to answer his texts.”</p><p>Keiji clenches his fists for a second, irritation lining along his veins. His feelings were like a web, the moment something comes crashing in, it tears it apart.</p><p>The cool-headed Keiji was now a mess of unrequited love.</p><p>“I’ll answer him later.”</p><p>“You should do it now.” Kei looks back at him. “It’s about Bokuto.”</p><p>There’s a long pause, empty and tense. Keiji’s on edge, fingers twitch on the table. Agitation slams into his head, throwing everything off the shelves. He can imagine himself flipping the table from pent up anxiety.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t want to face him. </em>
</p><p>He’s been doing everything he can to avoid him. Even if he found his answer, it didn’t solve everything. Moving on wasn’t easy as 1, 2, 3. It was more like getting hit by a car and walking the pain off, then realizing you have to go to the hospital for a fractured rib or kneecaps, then wait for months until one day you realize-</p><p>YOU’RE ALIVE.</p><p>Keiji throws a fake smile. “I’ll be back.” His knees hit the table leg, hissing as he walked it off. He can hear Kei snickering and Tadashi smacking him.</p><p>
  <em> Great start to the day, Keiji. </em>
</p><hr/><p><b>Kuroo</b> <b><br/></b> <b>Bokuto wants to talk to you</b></p><p>Keiji bites his nail, his legs shake under his desk. The stack of papers decreased by half. He can feel his brain shrivel, too tired to think of a response to a simple text. So he settled for something like this:</p><p><b>Keiji</b> <b><br/></b> <b>Why?</b></p><p>Why? Really? That’s it?</p><p>Well what else did you expect? You think Keiji has the social capacity of an over energetic volleyball monster? No he’s just a manga editor running on 4 hours of sleep. He has the social capacity of a cat hissing under a bed.</p><p>Keiji groans, his phone smacks the desk. </p><p>“Tough day?” The same woman from before was at her desk. Her notes filled the sides of the pages, variables in equations looked like they were thrown carelessly in them.</p><p>“I’m just trying to hold out till lunch.” He looks up the ceiling. New coffee stains hover over him, unsure how that happened, he doesn’t want to stay to find out. The sound of a coffee machine tempts him, the paradisiacal liquid puts him in a trance. He didn’t even hear or feel his body move towards it.</p><p>Keiji shakes his head, fingers pulling away from the kettle’s handle. If he drank coffee now, he wouldn’t be hungry for lunch. He’s rather looking forward to being with Kei. The all-too familiar sound of Kei snickering at him makes his blood boil.</p><p>It was addictive. </p><p>Kei could easily dissect him into a blubbering mess, a band of annoyance wrapping his head around. Yet he couldn’t stop admiring him from afar. The soft tired voice he has in the morning, hoarse from talking the night away with coffee between their lips.</p><p>He licks his lips, mouth watering from just merely thinking about him. </p><p>
  <em> I’m in heaven. </em>
</p><p>His phone buzzes, too excited to remember the previous texts, he turns it on.</p><p><b>Kuroo</b> <b><br/></b> <b>You two were like a married couple. You could at least repair your friendship with him.</b></p><p>
  <em> I’m in hell. </em>
</p><p>There are 15 minutes left before lunch break. He cracks his knuckles, butt falling asleep in his work chair. </p><p>
  <em> You can do this. Just- </em>
</p><p>His phone vibrates with a call. He scrambles, answering it when he sees the first letter of the name.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Keiji!” The sweet voice sends him straight to cloud nine.</p><p>“Tadashi, what’s up?”</p><p>“I was wondering if you wanted curry or roast beef for dinner?”</p><p>Bless his heart.</p><p>“Curry sounds good.” Keiji enjoyed these sorts of conversations. He’s never had to come home with dinner prepared on the table. If he was early, he’d stand by the counter, watching Tadashi’s nimble fingers work.</p><p>The chopping sounds as the knife hits the board, carefully slicing vegetables and scraping them into a pot. Water boiling used to make him sick, heated water only for instant ramen and coffee. It’s no wonder his body was always tired, the lack of nutrition made it difficult to have any energy. Waking up was the hardest, never having anyone or anything to look forward to.</p><p>“Keiji?”</p><p>“Right, sorry. What’d you say?”</p><p>“Do you like spicy or medium?”</p><p>“Medium.”</p><p> </p><p>The last Sunday he spent before his month’s long isolation period was at Bokuto’s, there was a gloomy air between them. He watched, admired Bokuto's hands. His strong muscles made his knees weak, toned abs and thighs, the sweat bright and lustrous in the afternoon light. When Bokuto was asleep, napping away on his couch, Keiji would look at him, amorous and heart swollen from the peaceful sight. </p><p>The first time he let the back of his fingers brush against the side of his head, he could have sworn the whole world was spinning fast. His stomach lurched, pulling back as if he touched hot coal at his grandparent’s fireplace.</p><p>
  <em> Never again. </em>
</p><p>That’s what he thought. He lied to himself and he knew it.</p><p>
  <em> Never again. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There’s 5 minutes left. Five agonizing minutes. Every second feels like a year passing by. He might as well be 80 by the time Kei takes him out to eat.</p><p>“You seem impatient.” </p><p>He looks over, the woman smirking over to him.</p><p>“Got a hot date?”</p><p>Keiji blushes. “No.” He said too fast.</p><p>“Alright.” She shrugs, the white screen reflecting off her glasses. “Let’s get back to work then.”</p><p>Right. Work. Keiji can do this. He’s done this probably more than 200 times, but it all feels like he’s doing it for the first time. It’s the way his nerves are strung around the walls, connecting to a single outlet. He can’t pull one out, they’re tangled together. If one comes down, everything else will collapse with it.</p><p>
  <em> I’m in deep shit. </em>
</p><p>No shit, Sherlock.</p><p>“Have you ever felt completely helpless around someone?” </p><p>The woman thinks, pondering while typing in numbers in a calculator. “Yeah.” </p><p>“Nice.” Keiji looks at the time.</p><p>1 minute.</p><p>His legs bounce around, toes curling at the ends. There’s a familiar excitement, like christmas morning. His heart slams around in a cage, ready to burst out and fall apart. </p><p>40 seconds.</p><p>He knows the routine.</p><p>35 seconds.</p><p>You get excited, all high on happiness.</p><p>25 seconds.</p><p>And it all comes crashing down.</p><p>10 seconds.</p><p>Keiji is prepared to have his heart torn out.</p><p>1 second.</p><p>
  <em> Bzzt! </em>
</p><p><b>Tsukishima</b> <b><br/></b> <b>are you ready?</b></p><p>Keiji’s heart is in his hands.</p><p><b>Keiji</b> <b><br/></b> <b>yup.</b></p><hr/><p>There’s nothing more embarrassing than being stared down while pieces of fried shrimp burn the insides of his mouth. Keiji can count with all his fingers, there’s enough for every minute he looks over at the blonde, watching the curve of his throat. It made his mouth water.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>Keiji turns away, cheeks flushing a little. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”</p><p>Kei sets down his chopstick. “There’s something on your mind.”</p><p>“That indeed.” He has to agree, he knows he can’t run forever.</p><p>
  <em> How bad would it be if I told you I love you and Tadashi? </em>
</p><p>He could get kicked out, banned from ever being in their vicinity. Friends, no more. They’ll be rifts, too wide to ever be stitched back together. Keiji won’t be able to fly with a ship through their galaxy. He’ll be alone like the north star.</p><p>He didn’t want to be alone.</p><p>“I have to meet Bokuto this weekend.”</p><p>Kei brings the water to his lips, sipping casually. He waves a hand over, acknowledging Keiji to continue.</p><p>So he does. “I don’t know what to tell him.”</p><p>“Do you still love him?”</p><p>Keiji bites his lip. “Not as much.”</p><p>“But you still do?”</p><p>He shifts, his knee accidentally knocking against the metal leg. “I…”</p><p>
  <em> I found someone else. More like two people.  </em>
</p><p>“I want to move on.”</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>He winces, the side of his lip bleeds. He’s bitten too hard. “Tadashi and I talked about it yesterday.” He looks over to Kei.</p><p>He wore nothing but a stoic cool expression, lips in a straight line. It may have seemed like he didn’t care, but he could see underneath. Kei was listening, hell he was doing a great job at it. There wasn’t a reaction when he used the brunette’s given name. Normally, people who were overfamiliar tend to make them uncomfortable.</p><p>
  <em> Of course we’re comfortable. We live together. </em>
</p><p>He keeps going. “I think, well my theory is, it may be an infatuation.” He says it slowly, dissecting every word.</p><p>Kei nods, his hands tap on the table. He always uses two fingers, the ring and middle. It’s peculiar to Keiji, but all-the-more attractive. It’s the small things that pierces his heart.</p><p>“You’ll have to see how you feel in person.” His fingers stop mid air. “Maybe you do love him, just not as much since you haven’t been able to talk to him by himself.”</p><p>Keiji tilts his head. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Kei looks him straight in the eye. “It’s normal to lose contact with high school friends. Sometimes you drift so far apart, the feelings you held tend to lessen.” He shrugs, disregarding the waitress asking if for refills. </p><p>“So you’re saying it might either come back stronger?” </p><p>Kei swings his cup around, the ice cubes at the bottom clink against the plastic cup. It makes them wince from the sudden high pitch noise.</p><p>“It could.” He sets his cup down, bored of it. “Or it could just go away.”</p><p>Keiji likes the way Kei licks his lips. The slight shimmer of saliva gleaming from under the light. </p><p>“It could.” Keiji agrees, sounds drowning out their thoughts. There’s yelling at the table next to theirs, watching some sports on tv like a regular tuesday afternoon for drinks. It’s been a long time since either of them went out with coworkers, but they preferred this. </p><p>Just two calm friends, out for lunch. Casual, simple, nice. Perfect for the two of them.</p><p>Keiji doesn’t think twice. </p><p>
  <em> What would you do if I told you I love you and Tadashi? </em>
</p><p>“If I was in love with him, would I have to move out?”</p><p>There’s the same sensation again, feeling like you’re in the spotlight alone for everyone to laugh at. He’s being humiliated, vision slightly askews as the world around him spins too fast. He was in a race unseen and unknown to everyone, there wasn’t anyone but him in this competition. </p><p>It wasn’t a person he was going against, it was himself.</p><p>He was losing himself.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><hr/><p><b>Keiji</b> <b><br/></b> <b>drop by saturday morning. </b></p><p>He bites his nail, heart thumping against his chest. The rise and fall of it is kind of soothing, strangely enough, it calms him down.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He puts down his phone, not wanting to look at it anymore. Bokuto takes a long time to respond, with his busy schedule, it’s not surprising.</p><p>“You look a little tense.” Tadashi swipes his finger on Keiji’s wrist, pressing against his pulse. He has magic fingers, not only for cooking, but he gives really good massages.</p><p>“I’m just nervous.” He feels a little dizzy, probably from not breathing correctly.</p><p>Tadashi hums, smoothing out his wrist and hands. He rubs semi-hard circles between his thumb and index finger. There are small cracks and pops, satisfied, he flexes his hand easily.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Now tell me what’s up.”</p><p>Keiji bites back a sigh. “I’m scared my feelings for Bokuto might come back.”</p><p>“You mean they're not there anymore?”</p><p>
  <em> No. </em>
</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>
  <em> I don’t know. </em>
</p><p>“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Tadashi slides a coaster over with fresh green tea. “Just let your emotions flow. If it happens, it happens for a reason, right?”</p><p>He brightly smiles, his canines showing proudly. Keiji can see why Kei loves it, there’s something innocent yet snarky in it. It can be seen with adoration, or be used to tease you. He wants to feel both, but right now he only needs the former.</p><p>“You’re really something.”</p><p>Tadashi giggles. “I know, Kei tells me that every time.”</p><p>He makes a yelping noise when his phone hits the ground.</p><p>“Tadashi?”</p><p>“Crap!” He runs straight to the calendar hanging on the fridge. “We have dinner with Kei’s mom this friday!”</p><p>Keiji is inquisitive, questioning if Kei got his attitude from his mother or father. He doesn't know much about their families, the last time they talked about anything personal, it was about his depression. Which reminds him…</p><p>“Tadashi?”</p><p>Tadashi turns back, hands holding a red marker. There’s a blaring red circle on the date.</p><p>The tip of the tongue presses against the back of his teeth. Realization crumbles to the ground, echoing the wrongs of asking such a particular question. </p><p>“I was wondering-” That doesn’t sound right. “Sorry, I meant if you-” Not that either.</p><p>He groans, pulling the sides of his hair in frustration. Nothing came out right.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Tadashi carefully asks.</p><p>Keiji looks up at him, lips dried. “I know we don’t talk about my depression, but I was wondering how you knew about it instantly.” </p><p>Tadashi drops the marker, rolling down to meet his foot. “Ah.” There’s a deafening silence, ears itching, aching for his voice. Keiji didn’t like the way he said that. He sounded horrified.</p><p>“It’s okay if you can’t tell me.” He waves his hands, dismissing, but it’s too late.</p><p>“No it’s fine.” Tadashi bends down, plucking the marker. He presses the cap down hard. It makes Keiji flinch when it harshly clicks.</p><p>“You just caught me off-guard.”</p><p>
  <em> I still feel guilty about it. </em>
</p><p>“I guess you can say we’re almost the same.”</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>“But everyone experiences it differently.” Tadashi twirls the cap, still closed, twisting it to hear the grating squeaks of plastic rubbing against each other.</p><p>“Tadashi…”</p><p>The movement continues, echoing off into the hallways. There’s a furious typing from the office.</p><p>“I’m-” Tadashi hiccups, his breath stutters, almost choking him. He’s on the brink of breaking into a sob, and it’s all Keiji’s fault. </p><p>“Oh god, I’m so s-”</p><p>“No!” Tadashi wipes his eyes, the ends of his hoodie turn darker. Tiny splotches of teardrops on the forearms as he looks down. “I’m fine. It’s just hard.”</p><p>Keiji nods, knowing he can’t hear that. He clears his throat, stalling for a few seconds. “I’m sorry for making you feel this way.” He makes sure to cut in the moment Tadashi opens his mouth. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”</p><p>The typing stopped.</p><p>“It’s okay, Keiji.” </p><p>“No, really I’m-”</p><p>“I’m okay talking about it with you.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>Tadashi nods. “Sit.” He makes his way towards the kitchen, tea kettle on the stove ready and clean.</p><p>Keiji listens eagerly for the typing. There’s nothing.</p><p>“Here. I got it.” He gently shoves Tadashi into a chair, his hands patting his arm. “I’ve been practicing.” He smiles.</p><p>Tadashi chuckles, hair ruffling through Keiji’s soft hair. He turned away, blushing and blubbering. Keiji may not know how to do the perfect cafe au lait, but he knows how to make regular coffee. A huge step from instant coffee if you ask him.</p><p>“Ooh.” Tadashi is mesmerized with the sweet scent of coffee in front of him. “You’re getting better at this.” </p><p>“I told you.” Keiji smirks. “So…”</p><p>“Right.” The cup sits on the table. “Buckle in, it’s a long ride.”</p><p> </p><p>Keiji doesn’t hear the typing from the halls, he hears footsteps pause behind the doorway. He doesn’t check or call Kei out, he lets him be. By the time Tadashi was done, he missed Kei entirely. Too exhausted to pay attention to his surroundings, bumping his shoulders on the door as he makes his way into his room.</p><p>Kei doesn’t stop him to remind him he forgot to brush his teeth. The red-rimmed eyes were easy to see from a mile away.</p><p>“He’s so tired he didn’t notice you.” </p><p>Kei’s head bumps the wall. “Thank you.”</p><p>“For?” Keiji questions, joining him along the doorway to the room. Tadashi left the door wide open.</p><p>“Letting him take his time to open up.” Kei whispers, watching the bundle under the blankets move softly. A sweet, gentle pace.</p><p>“Oh.” Keiji’s foot stays glued to the floors. “You guys would have done the same to me.”</p><p>Kei stands up straight, lightly patting Keiji’s back.. “You’ve grown on us, I guess.”</p><p>Keiji would have teased him if the conversation wasn’t so serious. “Yeah well, you’ve two grown on me.” A poor retort, he knows. The meaning behind it still stands.</p><p>Tadashi’s sleeping face makes his heart turn to putty. The night shadow’s stay away from his body, the moonlight fully wrapping its arms around him. It’s the first time Keiji looks into their room, the door always remains closed whenever he walks down the hall. He’s not missing out if he’s being honest, everything was simple. He understands why Tadashi is so hung up on decorating, there’s barely anything they can call theirs.</p><p>
  <em> This is your home too. </em>
</p><p>“He looks like an angel.” </p><p>Keiji almost jumps, heart pounding from his sudden voice during the peaceful silence. He thought he was caught red-handed for his entire face flushing at Tadashi’s words earlier that morning. It made him swoon, dizzy and skittish. “I never heard you compliment before.”</p><p>Kei shrugs. “Usually in bed.” He smirks, enjoying the many faces of Keiji.</p><p>“You’re unbelievable.” Keiji scoffs, stalking off to the bathroom. </p><p>
  <em> Can he prove that to me too? </em>
</p><p>The answer will always be no, Keiji.</p><p>
  <em> I’m a fool. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He lets them be, jealousy isn’t a pretty sight. He knows he closed the door a little too hard, clutching the shower knobs and fully twisting to have hot water sting his back. The towel angrily dried off his body and hair.</p><p>He grumbles in the bathroom. </p><p>When he spots his face on the full body mirror, that’s when he notices change. The dark circles are almost gone, his face cleared up from acne. He wasn’t ghostly pale anymore, there was a slight tan from being outside more now. It wasn’t much, but the difference still stood. </p><p>
  <em> “I struggled with anxiety in high school. I kept it in so long, I ended up getting depressed, everything was affecting me. My life at home, volleyball, school. It all just came crashing down.” </em>
</p><p>He knew Tadashi had work in the afternoon. Seeing him leave early in the morning made more sense now.</p><p>
  <em> “My therapist says they usually go hand in hand. A lot of the time, one appears after the other, though you can't tell which came first.” </em>
</p><p>Therapy.</p><p>He had therapy in the mornings.</p><p>
  <em> “Some days are easier to manage, but you always have those times where it seems impossible to get through.” </em>
</p><p>He had apologized profusely when Tadashi explained.</p><p>
  <em> “I didn’t have anyone. I kept it in until one day, I did something I still regret.” </em>
</p><p>There were always things to learn, especially about your friends. Keiji wonders if he should seek help for his depression, though he liked to think he had it under wraps, it was still in the back of his mind.</p><p>
  <em> “I still have my moments, it’s hard getting out of bed. I don’t talk about it because I’m ashamed of it, but it’s really nothing to be ashamed of. You just have to find the right people who’ll understand and help any way they can. That’s why I wanted to help you.” </em>
</p><p>He knows that well. In some ways, they are similar. But the way they coped was definitely different. Keiji rubs his face, calming himself down by counting the drips of the shower head. After number 63, he can feel himself dozing off. </p><p>
  <em> “Now look at us! We’re close friends!” </em>
</p><p>Friends…</p><hr/><p>The moment the last paper reveals his dusty desk, he feels his spirit jumping out of his mouth and dancing around in circles. The burst of joy and excitement is so much, tears teasing below his eyelids.</p><p>“Congratulations!” The woman at her desk claps. “I’ll tell your boss you finished. I got to admit, I’m pretty impressed you did it all within a week.”</p><p>Keiji bounces in his seat for a second, breathing in and out to put on a cool face. “Yeah, now I can get back to business.”</p><p>His back burns. Everytime he slumped in his chair, his back screamed. He can just wait to get back to that sofa, the sudden image of a car pops into view from the windows.</p><p>
  <em> Oh yeah. </em>
</p><p>There’s something else he’s looking forward to.</p><p>“Weren’t you always in business?”</p><p>“Kind of.” Keiji explains, “I miss working with a team, I mean now I’ll have to really work hard, but the whole process makes the job fun and worth it.” </p><p>He doubts she understood, but she nods, smiling as he rambles.</p><p>He’s free. Until Monday. For now he can celebrate.</p><p>… </p><p> </p><p>Wait....</p><p>Tomorrow.</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>“Wow.” Kei looks at him through the mirror. “Language?” </p><p>“I forgot about tomorrow.” Keiji slid down in his seat, the chair smelled like cinnamon and oranges.</p><p>“Keiji, sit up please.” Tadashi was looking down at a magazine, reading up on modern decor from a local furniture shop. </p><p>Does he have eyes on the back of his head? Perhaps. He won’t tell.</p><p>Keiji listens. “I wish it could stay Friday forever.”</p><p>“I wish it’d be Saturday forever.” Kei comments.</p><p>“Because you get to be at home with us?” </p><p>“Because I get to see you suffer tomorrow with your high school crush.” </p><p>“You jerk!”</p><p>“Ha!”</p><p>“Do you two ever stop fighting?” Tadashi sneers. “You guys act like an old married couple.”</p><p>Keiji hides his blush with a hand. He grumbles out a string up censored curses, each one slowly dissolving on the tip of his tongue. He takes a glance at the rearview mirror. Kei sticks his tongue out, laughing when Tadashi pokes his cheek. </p><p>The car drive was smooth, no hiccups or crying, and absolutely no traffic. That’s the best part, that is, until Saturday arrives and eats him alive.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Vanilla dribbles down his chin, sticky fingers cling to his napkin as he wipes it. He feels 5 again, not caring who saw his mess, as long as he could enjoy sweets underneath the roof’s shade. Left out on the patio, wood digging into his thighs. His ankles hit the wooden posts underneath, dirt whisking in the air as he swings them.</p><p>“Can you eat normal?” Kei’s tongue is blue.</p><p>“Kei, be nice.” Tadashi’s giggles blow cool air onto Keiji’s forehead, the hair tickling his temples. </p><p>Keiji smiles, lips curling at the ends into a big smile. They’re at the Tsukishima’s house, spending their afternoon together for dinner. Both of their heads on each lap, Tadashi brushing their hair back and letting it fall back on their foreheads. </p><p>It feels natural, like he’s known them for his entire life. It could be the house feeling very homely, lively with a caring family. The Tsukishima’s had different personalities, clashing in a boxing ring. But it was a friendly fight.</p><p>His stomach rumbles. He could smell the aromatic scent of herbs and chicken. </p><p>“Someone is eager.” Kei’s head turns around, digging into Tadashi’s thigh. </p><p>Keiji turns to lie on his back, the sweat makes his shirt stick. “My whole body feels sticky.”</p><p>“That’s your fault.” Kei puffs.</p><p>“Why do you two <em> always </em>have to argue?” Tadashi pulls back Kei’s hair, hand stroking the top of his head, letting it go to make it floof.</p><p>“It’s all him.” Keiji snorts. “He’s always starting it.”</p><p>Kei tries to talk, but Tadashi pinches his cheeks, giggling at his blabs and blahs.</p><p>Keiji’s phone buzzes.</p><p><b>Bokuto</b> <b><br/></b> <b>sorry i’ve been SUPER BUSY with practice but yeah! Yamaguchi told me what time and everything. can’t wait to see you :))</b></p><p>Keiji can feel a thick string twinge, twisting and turning in his gut. The air in his lungs leak from his lips.</p><p>“Keiji?”</p><p>He shakes his head. “It’s just Bokuto.”</p><p>“So why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”</p><p>He gulps. “It’s nothing.”</p><p><b>Keiji</b> <b><br/></b> <b>great! see you tmr then.</b></p><p>“Akaashi?”</p><p><b>Bokuto</b> <b><br/></b> <b>i can bring coffee! your favorite is mocha right?</b></p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Kei’s mother is a gem, she’s the creme in creme brulee. When he sits beside her at the table, he is bombarded with worried questions and comments. Nothing about it was overbearing, or troublesome, she radiated love whether they were family or not.</p><p>That goes to say that Keiji and his mother don’t exactly get along. Keiji’s mother was always strict, always demanding nearly unrealistic standards. </p><p>Everything was damaged.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re eating right?” His mother bellows out. “Tadashi, make sure you feed him twice as much.”</p><p>Keiji is abashed. “I’m fine!”</p><p>“Mom, please!” Kei whines.</p><p>“I make sure he eats three times a day.” Tadashi said in between giggles.</p><p>“You should eat 6 times.” </p><p>“4 times.”</p><p>“5 times.”</p><p>“3 times plus two snacks.” </p><p>She nods her head, holding a hand out to shake. He couldn’t believe he negotiated his meals with his crush’s mother.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry about that.” Kei passes him a bottle of green tea. “She gets worried easily.”</p><p>Keiji takes the bottle, the condensation sliding down his wrists. “It’s not a problem. It was kind of sweet.”</p><p>“I guess.” Kei sits down beside him. “Some days it’s overbearing but that’s my fault. I just hate people in general.”</p><p>“Except Tadashi.”</p><p>“Except Tadashi.” Kei confirms. His knees are slightly red from bending down pulling weeds from the garden.</p><p>“But…”</p><p>Keiji peeks over the end of the bottle.</p><p>“I don’t mind you either.” The words trickle like a river into his ear. He chokes on his drink.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Just unexpected.”</p><p>“But thank you.” Keiji adds, “I find you two easy to talk to.”</p><p>“Oh really?” Kei clicks his tongue. “I’ve been told I have the social capacity of a wall.”</p><p>Keiji snickers uncontrollably. “Maybe. But I appreciate it.”</p><p>Tadashi digs in the ground, pulling the dead flowers out of the garden beds. Kei’s mother laughs beside him, pointing to which flowers were blooming. The air smelled nice, herbs grew on the side of the house.</p><p>“How many years did it take to make all this?” Keiji asks.</p><p>Kei watches his boyfriend’s shadows elongate, the wind riding up his shirt. The splay of freckles on his back makes him shiver. There’s nothing but the backyard light above them, the street lamps don’t do justice.</p><p>“It was here when we moved in.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“My grandparents used to own this house.” There’s a sad tale behind it, Keiji wasn’t prepared to be torn into shreds. He’s never heard Kei’s voice waver, tottering on a thin wire. Tadashi joins them, pulling both of their arms towards him, huddling and basking in their warmth.</p><p>Keiji likes this. Tadashi in the middle seemed like a perfect fit.</p><p>“This is nice.” He admitted out loud.</p><p>“This is.” Tadashi grips their arms tighter, freckles standing out from under the light. “I can stay like this forever.”</p><p>
  <em> Wait, really? </em>
</p><p>“Me too.” Kei throws out.</p><p>“Me three.”</p><hr/><p>There’s not a single day where Keiji wishes he could have been born a caterpillar. He wants to be a moth flickering about in the light peering between the cracks of the curtains. </p><p>“So…” Bokuto’s smiles stayed on his face.</p><p>“So.” Keiji thumbs the cup’s sleeve, the tip of his finger burning. “I guess you have some questions?”</p><p>Bokuro nods excitedly. His hands move as he talks, it’s easy to see how enthusiastic he is. That’s what he loved about him.</p><p>Loved.</p><p>Love?</p><p>Interesting.</p><p>Keiji snaps back into the conversation, watching behind Bokuto’s shoulder. Tadashi and Kei were nowhere near them, allowing full privacy. The only rule Kei left was to not get steamy, but Keiji wasn’t thinking about that. </p><p>At least, not with Bokuto.</p><p>“Sorry, can you repeat that?” His ears flush, an icy shiver runs through him. </p><p>
  <em> Get your mind out of there, damn it. </em>
</p><p>“I said I-”</p><p>Keiji’s phone goes off in his pocket. He jumps, reaching behind him. “Sorry.” The display name makes him smile instantly.</p><p><b>Tadashi</b> <b><br/></b> <b>what do you want for lunch?</b></p><p>Keiji didn’t hear himself chuckling.</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>He looks up, his smile fading. “Nothing, sorry.”</p><p><b>Keiji</b> <b><br/></b> <b>ramen!</b></p><p><b>Tadashi</b> <b><br/></b> <b>okay :)</b></p><p>“Sorry, go ahead.”</p><p>There are two things Keiji remembers about coffee. He hates every other coffee that isn’t cafe au lait. The second thing? He despises every person’s coffee but Tadashi’s. He was sure coffee was an acquired taste, similar to green tea. No matter how many times he drank coffee from the same cafe, he could never stomach it whenever it hit the bottom of his stomach.</p><p>He will not, ever, like anything but homemade coffee.</p><p>He recognizes Bokuto’s voice throughout his whole ordeal, slightly ashamed his thoughts kept revolving back to his ‘friends’. He’s bitter about it, but if that’s what they saw, then he couldn’t argue. That’s the way life worked for him. He could spend his entire life lonely and bitter, or he could live in pain while the ones he loved sat perfectly in a castle, drinking tea and laughing at his sore loserly life.</p><p>Keiji focuses on the steam obscuring Bokuto, though he can’t say for sure if he misses the sight or not. His head feels full. Maybe the coffee was affecting him, it could have been a bad batch for all he cares. </p><p>“I was wondering if you wanted to live with me.”</p><p>Wait, backtrack.</p><p>“Wait, what?”</p><p>“Yeah! That way we can get out of Tsukki’s and Freckle’s hair!”</p><p>
  <em> Tsukki? FRECKLES? How dare- </em>
</p><p>Keiji’s voice rose, panicky and in distress. “Woah!” He slams a palm down. “That’s too sudden!”</p><p>“Is it?” Bokuto rubs his chin, eyes showing nothing but consideration. Thought, it’s most likely one-sided.</p><p>
  <em> Just like my feelings. </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, I mean. You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.” Keiji pushes his coffee cup aside, the aftertaste leaves him stomach uneasy. He had to swallow down the urge to spit it out the second it entered.</p><p>“But why not?”</p><p>“Well-”</p><p>“You’re my best friend!”</p><p>Friend… the word came up one too many times, maybe it’s a sign.</p><p>“I can’t.”</p><p>Bokuto looks over in shock. “Why not?”</p><p>
  <em> This is my home. </em>
</p><p>“I need to repay them for what they’ve done.”</p><p>
  <em> That sounds legit. </em>
</p><p>“But I already asked them about it.”</p><p>“What?!” Now he remembers why Bokuto made him frustrated sometimes. “Bokuto, you can’t do that!”</p><p>“Why not?” There it is again.</p><p>Keiji pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing tightly with his fingernails. He can feel it dig into his skin. “You can’t just decide shit like that!”</p><p>He regretted the words instantly, watching Bokuto flinch back. It made his heart squeeze.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” He calms himself down, knee bouncing. “Look, I appreciate it, but this is something I have to do myself.”</p><p>Bokuto sits back, looking around the lack of decor. Tomorrow he promised to help Tadashi, and damn it, he’ll keep it.</p><p>“Isn’t it crowded?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“You sleep on the sofa right?”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>“Don’t you miss your bed?” Bokuto’s arm digs into the chair, resting on the back piece. He twists back to look at Keiji, his facade broken down.</p><p>“Akaashi? Oh crap, are you crying?”</p><p>Keiji rubs a hand over a cheek, peering down at the small puddle of tears. He’s cried many times before, the shadows in the middle of the room always haunting him. He was a child, any child would be terrified of the dark. But he left it all behind, facing his fear because he was forced to.</p><p>No one is forcing him anything. He felt cornered, trapped, stuck on a flytrap, wings glued.</p><p>Bokuto repeated his name, slowly echoing as his vision tunnels in. Suddenly, everything feels too heavy, breathing becomes a much more difficult task. Keiji knows what’s happening, yet not being able to do anything at all. It’s not his fault, it’s no one’s.</p><p>The helplessness didn’t go away. </p><p>“Akaashi?”</p><p>Keiji blinked, vision clearing up and a small bird’s shadow flew over the room. The window is wide open. He forgot to close it before Kei and Tadashi left.</p><p>“Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Keiji’s hands stung, where the tears touched, left a trail of blazing fires in its wakening. </p><p>“I need you to tell me the truth.”</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t say anything. He listens, he always listens, but it wasn’t the same as Kei. Keiji shouldn’t compare them, they’re two different people. He loved them both, but even love had a distinguishment to it. He can practically <em> feel </em>it.</p><p>“Why are you here?”</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t skip a beat.</p><p>“Because I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Keiji hates mocha.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i have two fics done for tsukkiyama week. </p><p>am i ready for it? no.<br/>am i ready for anything? also no.<br/>it's also almost 4 am and i can't sleep. fuck preparation.</p><p> </p><p>on another note,<br/>i can now favorite this pairing's tag. mission accomplished. we sail at dawn.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. latte</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>akaashi doesn't dare to break his promise.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whew, this chapter took so long. it's over 9k so get some coffee, or water, anything</p><p>and take your time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keiji’s throat felt dry, despite taking a big swig of mocha, he couldn’t satisfy the feeling of cotton clogging his airways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel his feet numb, an invisible hand stabbing their sharp nails along his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grasped his hands around his thighs, squeezing them. He kneads with the heel of his palm, breathing in deeply. He prayed for blood flow to regulate, to turn back time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s eyes stared down hard at the tiled floors, focusing on the lines separating each one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” He shakes his head, his toes stretching out in his socks. “I’m just tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drink your coffee!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really haven’t changed.” Keiji chuckles, watching Bokuto drink carelessly. He’s not a fan of coffee, he can see from his expressions as the brown liquid slipped between his lips. His mouth scrunches, eyes wrinkling as he pulls away from his cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coffee is gross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji stands up, his knees almost giving away. “Do you want some water?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto shakes his head. “Yes, please!” He pushes the cold drink, water from condensation pooling around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plain or flavored?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flavored?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks back, “You never had flavored water?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought water was water.” Bokuto’s fingers dipped into the puddle, dragging the clear liquid around the table. Swirling it around to make a big spiral.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto, please don’t make a mess.” Keiji chuckles, watching Bokuto try to smear it around. The liquid only darkens on the spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, uh, how’s work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pushes around cartons of milk and eggs aside, making way to pull out the pitcher. Fresh strawberries, neatly cut, laid at the bottom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Work is good.” Keiji likes the way it leaves his mouth. The small noise of approval in the back of his mind makes it feel right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Bokuto shifting from one subject to another was refreshing, seeing his curious smiles and eyes glint mischievously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strawberry water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Agua de Fresa, but it translates the same as strawberry water. Tadashi's grandmother gave him a recipe.” Keiji poured into two empty clear cups, the ones that hung upside down at the highest shelf in the cabinet. Only used for guests since Kei hates it when they use their coffee mugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not keen on sharing many things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji froze, the second cup partially empty. “Yamaguchi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Bokuto nodded his head, waiting to be passed the sweet iced drink. “You two are close?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wants to say yes, he wants to confess right there how the freckled man made his stomach flip imaginary pancakes. Just listening to Tadashi’s voice is the syrup itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somewhat.” That seems good enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Tsukki?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sets the pitcher in the middle, the small bits of strawberries floating around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They went out for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So they’ll be back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji taps the glass with his pinky, the forming condensation makes his hand slide as he grips it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto takes a big sip, eyes crinkling with joy as the drink goes down his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, this is really good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles. “I know.” He was there watching Tadashi cut the strawberries, dropping it on their tongues to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why’d you move in with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small memory of Tadashi’s thumb brushing the bottom of his lip sends goosebumps to his arms. They were soft, only holding in place for a mere two seconds. Keiji counted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it here.” There’s more to it, but he isn’t sure to express it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you miss us?” Bokuto leaned forward, his cup almost knocking down from his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji let go of his cup, wanting to take a large gulp, anything to excuse him from not talking. He breathes hard, watching a few drops of condensation fall. The last time Bokuto asked him, he said no. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m such an idiot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” There’s no lie behind it. “I just needed to be away for some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto stays silent, not feeling contempt with his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have told me at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji rubs the side of his face with a hand. “Yeah, I could’ve.” His cheeks felt stubbly, he needed to shave. He’ll ask Tadashi about the supplies later, he didn’t want to take without giving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s similar to their shared responsibilities with chores. Keiji did the laundry, Tadashi did the cooking and dishes, and Kei did the sweeping. There were little bits of other maintenance they all took turns in, it was like a small schedule of them doing homely things together. Sunday was cleaning day, as well as coffee filled afternoons and pastries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for not saying sooner.” His hand goes back to the cup, making a small face on the side with his pinky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ll come back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Keiji says immediately, eyes looking up to see Bokuto crestfallen. “I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Bokuto jumps in his seat. “Do you not like me? I promise I won’t snore again”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not it.” Keiji’s thoughts feel like fish swimming rapidly by a stream. They were rushing forth, swarming out of his ears and eyes. “I could never </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> like you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hiding something?” Bokuto couldn’t be more accurate. He knew he was oblivious to things, but when it came to Keiji, he knew him like the back of his hand. They were like a married couple, at least to Kuroo and Kenma, that’s how they saw them as.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you it’s work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s what you told Kuroo.” Bokuto rubs his thumb across his fingers, knuckles cracking. “You didn’t tell me what it really was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji knew he was cornered. “You’re right,” he laughed pathetically, “I can’t get by you, can I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know when something is troubling you. We’ve been friends since high school.” Bokuto’s hands laid flat on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Keiji doesn’t mutter, he is torn, unsure whether to collapse in Bokuto’s arms or to push him farther away. His heart yearns for both, but he knows he has to decide. Eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto stood up, slowly walking around the table. Every step matched Keiji’s heart colliding in his chest, every crash met with the soft taps of his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh… but it is…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re hurting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji didn’t dare to move, frozen completely in between Bokuto’s arms, his skin felt too hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an itch all around him, everything coming into contact felt like it was burning him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can stay with me if you need more time away from everyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about Bokuto that makes him want to fall to the ground, fall into an endless abyss of nothing but comfort. He had a warm personality, so cheerful and bubbly, so caring of everyone around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji can make a list of every fear he has, it’d be the longest essay he’s ever written. Nothing can compare to him, the ever longing desire to be by his side burned him. The middle of his palms felt hollow, something was amiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands floated above Bokuto’s back, desperately begging to touch his spine. He could hold him tight, or hardly touch him, really anything would be fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He retreated, curling himself inward.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, can I think about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto pulls away. Every part of Keiji’s body screams for him to come back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his heart tells him otherwise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji hurts and yearns, but he never gets what he wants.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s satisfying watching the fountain spew out water from a fish’s mouth. His eyes followed the few rogue splashes, leaving imperfect circles on the cement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Kenma stood beside him, two cups of hot lattes in each hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji reached out to take one. “It’s okay, I was just thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About someone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma seats himself, crossing his ankles. He blew into the small hole, his cheeks and nose were bright red. It was a bit cold today, but Kenma was easily cold so this didn’t shock him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a bit surprised you reached out to me,” he admits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a deep breath, following one last drop of water crashing into the cold ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I needed someone to be blunt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Kuroo isn’t?” Kenma sneers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re brutal at times,” Keiji lets out a weak chuckle, “I need your opinion on something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma sips for a few seconds, pulling away as the liquid seers the middle of his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m all ears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sighs, the tensions in his chest adding more pressure. He can hardly breathe, there’s just so much to lose and nothing to gain. At least, that’s what he thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in love.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words felt familiar yet strange. He knows what love is, but he couldn’t shake off the strange, funny taste it left. He loves onigiri. He loves Tadashi and Kei. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I might still love Bokuto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s conflict in him, like earphones tangled tightly. If he pulls too hard, he’ll destroy them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could destroy things he loves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gathered.” Kenma doesn’t look at him, watching two kids toss coins into the fountain, silently praying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in love with more than one person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looks over, his mouth drops immediately. He could think Keiji was joking, but Keiji hardly jokes around like that. He knows he’s sensible and overthinks almost anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sip their hot lattes, slowly. There’s so much to think about, not much time has passed. The air around them is chilly. He hopes Kei and Tadashi brought sweaters to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So who are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji knew he had to fess up eventually, there’s hardly any energy to hold back anymore. The situation progressively worsens the more he holds it in. It’s only a matter of time before he crumbles completely, numbing himself out from the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s thinking too morbidly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One step at a time, Keiji.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” he shifts around, his butt falling asleep on the wood bench, “Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuts his eyes quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Kenma almost squeezes his cup, straining himself as much as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji only nods. He can picture Tadashi and Kei in the mornings, watching them drink and eat at the table as Keiji nods off on the sofa. Tadashi always wore Kei’s shirt to bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders if he’d wear his too.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If only.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s interesting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opened his eyes, he hadn’t realized how much his legs were trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, for sure, thought you were in love with Bokuto.” Kenma takes a long sip, eyes peering over the bottom of his cup. He can taste the lavender, the caffeine didn’t overpower it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Keiji looks down at his cup, hardly drinking any of it, “sort of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sort of?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still confused about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma doesn’t know Tadashi since Kei usually kept him out of their conversations, but it is strange that he’d let Keiji even </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> to him. Keiji must be something else if he’s even allowed to share a roof with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Interesting,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kenma made a mental note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so confusing about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” Keiji is at a loss, his feelings were a mess, his head was a complete storm, and his own mind keeps going back and forth between the three.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like you’re in a rom com.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma snickers. “You sure got yourself in quite a conundrum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s amusing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji brings the cup to his lips, pausing to look beside him. “Is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think this sort of thing is good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After all the years he’s seen Keiji lose his cool, he could count them all in one hand. That’s not to say Keiji isn’t always keeping a facade, he knew his bad habits. He can be full of anxiety, his mind never stopping the colossal amount of thoughts rushing into his head. He gives credit where it’s due, but even quiet people have a breaking point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thinks on how this could all be benefitting him. Maybe in some way, this was a sort of punishment. Did that count?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Bokuto has been bugging Kuroo and I about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flicker immediately, watching Adam's apple bob. “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that make you happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shrugs. “I’m not sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma lets out a sigh, slightly irritated. He loves his friends (don’t tell Kuroo), but it made him want to jump off a cliff with how oblivious everyone can be. His ankles uncross, stretching out his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s latte is half empty, the only source of heat was at the very bottom of the paper cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d you say when Bokuto asked you to move in with him?” says Kenma, flipping his cup over to let the last few drops hit the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I needed time to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not surprising.” Kenma says, “As a matter of fact, I think I know what your problem is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?” Keiji was more than excited, he had so many questions. He-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t let him go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-not expecting that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma stood up, stretching his arm over his head. “Follow me.” He doesn’t wait, listening to shoes scuffling and a choking sound behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji catches up easily, his forehead breaking out in a few sweat drops. Kenma has always been this thousand puzzle piece. People have been frustrated trying to figure him out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s a mastermind of reading people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma shakes his head, keeping a good pace while walking past shops. There was a small store, with a table full of macaroons, fake ones of course, neatly stacked up by the display window. It was a pastry shop, one that sells for a higher price than the stores nearby the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji eyes a slice of strawberry shortcake. His hand automatically reaches out to finger his wallet through his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing is wrong.” Kenma watches him through their reflections. “But nothing is right either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns around to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was in love with Bokuto.” Every word is a string being pulled and torn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Kenma tilts his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s when it all started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soft flaps of wings as a flock of birds flew over them, wandering in circles until they reached telephone poles. One by one, they stood above them, watching them with keenful eyes. Kenma shivered under their stares, his back felt cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma gathered the loose strands of hair, pulling it back into a loose bun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s mind was filled with static, then nothing. He was light, flying through clouds. He was a bird on a wire, watching down on himself. The sweet scent of grass fills his nostril, tampering his senses as he tries to move his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma waits, watching Keiji slowly unravel his hands full of tiny pebbles, falling into a stream. Every pebble floats farther away from each other, resting around Keiji as he walks up the rushing water, stinging his ankles. The waterfall is still miles away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So what else do I have to lose?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>More people?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops suddenly, feeling exasperated, the sun beaming down his face as sweat drips down from the side of his face. He dryly swallows, swallowing invisible sand as it scratches his throat. The immense weight on his shoulders increases every step he takes, the waterfall seemed impossible to reach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The biting guilt brings him to his knees, crying out in pain as he grabs a handful of sharp rocks and gravel. He crudely laughs at himself, tears and sweat mixed, leaving chilling trails down his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma yanks out the string from his sleeve, looking over with concern. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shakes his head, his hands fumbling around with the hem of his shirt. Slightly rumpled, forgetting to iron it again after being told countless times to take better care of his clothing. Tadashi was so domestic and loving, his heart clenched tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I left without saying anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s how his body washed away, following the direction the water flowed, further away from the waterfall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I left because I realized I was in love with my best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The painful memory burned holes into him, the anxiety and doubts eating him alive in his own bed. The jolt he met when he woke up and a heart beating so fast, it left his chest aching. His entire body was hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He throws the blanket off, his arm sticky and gross. His legs were heavy, two ton trucks unwilling to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God.” He sneaks a peak at his phone, watching the notification bubble rise as emails flood his inbox. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t ever catch a break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a throb in the front of his head, the lack of sleep was thinning out. He didn’t dare look at the large stack on the floor beside him. Days of work before him as he worked from home, sick in bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only a few weeks since he last hung out with anyone, his friends would send messages here and there to check in. None of them were really allowed to get near, he made sure of that. Kuroo had begged him to drink coffee at least, but Keiji wouldn’t hear it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His answer would always be the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have so much work to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Keiji groans, his coffee maker broke the second day of his sickness, “I really need some coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thumps from his neighbor increase. Just the perfect thing to wake up to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji rolls back into bed, his back cracking on his worn out mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>5:23 am</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squints, the red numbers stinging his corneas. His alarm stopped waking up, it wasn’t broken. He was just used to it now. Questions dripped hungrily from his mind, seeping into the back of his brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t tell me I’m getting sick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The small thermometer laid in a junk drawer. His vision doubled as he stood, his back cracking as he straightened himself. Was he too tired? Did he not get enough sleep last night? Perhaps he should take a day off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no days off.” He mumbles, “I need to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized he was already in the bathroom. Hands rigged, cold as he reaches in the drawer. He could barely register his own hand moving according to his will, yet it felt completely strange.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small beeps of the thermometer brings him back to focus, the numbers make the back of his neck hot. He can feel the sweat drops tickle, immediately reacting to wiping it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>38.8℃</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s legs shake, his toes balancing back and forth as the rest of his leg enters earthquake mode. He knows it’s many people’s pet peeve, but Tadashi always helped him out by grounding him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath, planting his foot on the ground, listening to everything around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So your first instinct was to isolate till you die?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji winces. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma snickers. “Then what was your plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to make a decision first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh goody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still alive, it’s not a problem.” Keiji wishes he hadn’t said that, he knew how insensitive it came out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma glares, seething every word. “The problem is that you need to take better care of yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are now, but what about in the future? What if you decide to move out and tell them how you feel? What if they don’t want to see you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji forgot how to breathe. He tilts forward, shaking violently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shi- Akaashi, I’m sorry.” Kenma scooted closer, his hands unsure where to place them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Keiji holds himself, knee bouncing up and down, “I’m just a bit scared about the future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.” Kenma admits shamelessly. “Me too.” He repeats.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The small window gave no light, his apartment was wedged in between other houses. The best view he had was a brick wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much caffeine is too much?” He measured the hot water, sifting the instant coffee powder. His brain begs for four spoonfuls, but the instructions said one and a half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No harm done right?” Oh he was so wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head came crashing down to the desk, pencils and papers swooshed aside. He couldn’t read another word, or hold another pen. There’s too much pain, pain everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, it hurts.” He weakly groans, trying to massage his temples. If someone was living with him, they’d be disgusted with the mess, but they also would tell him to go to the E.R.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of coffee is drab, lackluster, muted. He was never a fan of coffee, it was just a caffeine shot to get him through the day. Nothing more, nothing less. The whacking in his brain makes him want to curl up, shivering nonstop. Tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. Everything hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Urgh.” He drags himself back to bed, the heat his body radiates only worsens over time. He knew he should call for help. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi, you could have seriously gotten hurt!” Kenma interrupts, his hands clutch the middle of his thighs. The black nail polish shone a white reflection from the sun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t thinking straight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji groans. “As I was saying…”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone stood at a flurry of unread messages, not feeling any energy to read until a name stands out in bold letters. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled through the pain, a twinged feeling of joy and suffering thumped in his chest. His fingers lightly press the small icon, rereading the same text over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Bokuto:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>akaaaashiiii how are you? :)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t dare to laugh, his throat is terribly hoarse and burns just from swallowing. The coffee still lays on the desk, steam exiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s starts typing, stopping halfway when his heart erratically beats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sick, but he felt different.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone slips out of his hands, hitting the middle of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m in love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like that?” Kenma crosses his legs, hands holding onto his ankle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji chuckles, posture loose and laxed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That kind of surprises me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looked over, his legs were touching tightly together. He allowed himself to breathe, loosening his muscles. The weight of the world on his shoulders wasn’t as heavy, but nowhere near gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always knew you were an overthinker, but who knew for once, you weren’t oblivious to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I’d be the oblivious one?” laughs Keiji, shifting his posture to have his back touch the hard bench. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey now, you’re telling me you wouldn’t overthink on someone’s actions if they tried to flirt with you?” Kenma laughs, a snark smile makes its way on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was still the impending doom he cast himself in, forever spiraling out of control. He can still smell the sandalwood, opening his eyes to a white clean ceiling, laying on the softest sofa he’s ever laid in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know…” Keiji couldn’t help his smile piercing through his stoic face. “I thought I’d die in my home alone, never to be found till months later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morbid much?” Kenma jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji snickers, “Shush. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted, I was okay with dying alone. But I don’t feel that way anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because Bokuto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I have two good friends who care for me no matter what I decide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma watches him, his eyes trace down Keiji’s body. The breeze brushing their hair away from their faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji recalls Tadashi’s face slowly peeking from the corner of his eye, his freckles were the first thing he noticed. The splatter of brown dots captivated him. He had a wet towel on his forehead, eyelids were heavy and difficult to keep up. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re awake! Sorry we dragged you here.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled softly, eyes closed as the memory vividly runs in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not much, but welcome home!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his eyes, focusing on a small purple flower in a pot. The stores here were small, cute, homely. He used to walk around endlessly, his feet carrying him anywhere but the tiny box of a home. The last time he walked by himself was the night he came back into contact with Kuroo and Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you miss us?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He did.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He really did. He was just afraid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you still love Bokuto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji had been asked this many times, more than he liked, but everyone deserves his answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a sharp breath. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything bundled in his chest immediately spills into the stream. An invigorating energy runs through his vein. He splashes in the water, making a stand and pushing through the currents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what are you going to do?” Kenma asked, stretching out his leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji feels a cold rush take over him, a calming electric feeling spiking through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For now, just enjoy it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Welcome home!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy it while I can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>help me find something to decorate the house with ; v ;</b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watched with disgust, the mattress in the store was dirty. Earlier, kids jumped and spilled ice cream all over it, making him turn away and almost walk out of the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji!” He felt a hand grab the elbow part of his hoodie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, absolutely not.” He tries to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please! You can’t leave me to decide on my own.” He didn’t have to turn around to know Tadashi was pouting, his eyes were probably glassy, almost like he was going to cry. He hates that face, but the adorableness is too much to ignore.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dang it, Keiji.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks off a small lint on Tadashi’s sweater. “Fine, but we’re staying away from them.” He evidently jerks a thumb over to the kids’ direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi giggles. “Okay, let’s just look at smaller decorations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a small monkey, ugly and holding a cymbal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji couldn’t believe how much simple decorations the store lacked. It’s as if they were in Ikea for old people. Nothing modern or simple, just antiques and worn-out furniture. Maybe they were all donated, Keiji’s grandparents would love this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is it so hard to find something?” Tadashi groans, feeling exasperated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we’re just not looking at the right place.” Keiji hopes he takes the cue to leave the place and just go straight home. His mind muddy and confused, so much has happened this morning. His sweet revelation</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A promise is a promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh.” He can tell how much Tadashi wants to give up, but he didn’t want to see the small pout on his soft lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t think about kissing him…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, I want to kiss it off!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just walk around the mall, whatever we find cute or nice, we’ll think about it.” Keiji swallows hard, his cheeks on the brink of burning up. The need to crush his lips against Tadashi was making him feel hot, embarrassed just thinking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get it together, Keiji.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi brightens up, his hands pull Keiji’s arm out of the store. His thin fingers, softly pressing against his forearms. “Anywhere but here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then coffee?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A promise is a promise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bites his tongue back, the question threatening to spill. He didn’t want to think about Bokuto, the thoughts that followed after thinking he should move out. He didn’t want to burden anyone, especially a relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw that Tsukishima has some dinosaur figures in the office. Is that the only place he has decoration of his own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi bites his lower lip. “Yeah, but he’s had them since we were kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Keiji’s heart thumps, an idea pops into mind. “What if we get minimalistic decorations around the house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi nods. “That could work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plants?” Keiji’s memory flickers to the garden. Kei’s mother had so many beautiful plants, sunflowers almost as tall as him. The bees buried themselves in pollen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s perfect!” Tadashi stops walking, swiftly turning the other way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go to a nursery, we can get some trees and maybe even a bonsai tree!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want a bonsai tree?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’d be nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you trim them?” Keiji lets himself be pulled out of the mall, his footsteps aligned with Tadashi. The familiar warmth on his arm travels to the pit of his stomach, boiling him alive. But comfortably, like making a hot stew in the winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Winter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is anything growing this season?” Keiji lets his shoulder come into contact, Tadashi not minding the extra warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure, but I always wanted a citrus tree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They grow indoors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Tadashi bites his thumb’s nail, nervously gritting his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji reaches a hand, pulling it away softly. “Don’t do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Sorry, it’s a bad habit of mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a light missing in him, Keiji can sense Tadashi shift moods. He’s nervous about something, he can tell by the way he retracts his hands to hold his sides. There’s a voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to take action.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can do this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi, let’s go sit outside.” He watches his freckles stand out against Tadashi’s pale face. He keeps a tab on a small coffee shop by the entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi follows him, close behind his back, almost stepping on his shoes. Keiji doesn’t mind, he wants to do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Keiji leads him to an isolated bench next to a bus stop, “I’ll be here with you, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi meekly nods, his breathing erratic and panicked, his hands clutch together tightly on his lap. Keiji knows to let him try on his own, he understands the feeling of being independent. Panic attacks are terrifying enough, but when you’re alone, it feels as if the world is burying you alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wants to slide across, hold him, but he waits. He listens closely, the breathing starts to lessen, finding a pace that’s bearable to keep.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to hold him… I should tell Tsukishima.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits for a few seconds. Tadashi releases his hands, rubbing up and down his thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji immediately talks. “Don’t be. It’s okay, I’m here for you.” He wants to inch closer, wrap an arm around him to comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi wavers a bit, his lips are dry. He licks them, attempting to hydrate them, preventing them from cracking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you be okay by yourself for a bit?’ Keiji takes a stand, hesitating to move until he’s given the green light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi doesn’t say anything, he nods his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back in a few.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smell of coffee grounds Tadashi, the sweet taste filling every sense. Heat warming his hands, down his throat, and straight to his chest bloomed a warm blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He murmured, taking another sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches him, his own cup on his left hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi opens his mouth, attempting to say something else, but his senses were enraptured with slight anxiety and sweet coffee. It’s a strange mix, one he doesn’t recommend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feeling better?” asked Keiji, his back starts to burn from slouching so much. He was too busy looking at Tadashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Tadashi shivers, “sometimes it happens randomly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji could hardly hold himself back, his arms begging to hold him against his chest. Softly brush his hair, down to the nape of his neck, and massage a spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you…” Tadashi sighs, “Can you hold me for a bit?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t even have to ask.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji slides over, his empty hand wraps around to hold his shoulders, pressing him into his chest and neck. It was warm, his heart pounding rapidly and hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You nervous?” Tadashi asks, head burying into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha,” Keiji laughs awkwardly, “somewhat. I’ve never really been this close to anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ain’t that the truth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi giggles, relaxing into the hold. “Get used to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Say no more!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” He manages to respond, calmly leaning his body to press closer. The soft touches, warm cuddling-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cuddling?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh g-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Keiji bites his cheek before continuing, “will Tsukishima be okay with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing he wanted was to be hated by them, not when he finally had a home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei?” Tadashi pulls away a bit. “I thought you knew?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He trusts you a lot, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei really does care about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A promise is a promise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go find that citrus tree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji felt like pulling his hair out, the frustration lining along the back of his skull. It pounds, beats him inside, and he hates it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks, adjusting to the bright lights. Glasses in hand, trying not to break them in half, he takes a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His boss sits at his desk, scrolling down the site, viewing the schedule for the train and bus. The small map to Tokyo, right smack in the middle of Ishijima Bridge. He’s heard the winter chill make the sakura petals fly around you. Though, that could be an exaggeration from lovebirds who walk with the sunset out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really sorry for bothering, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.” Keiji flinches, he didn’t mean to cut him off, but he really just wanted to get home. “When do I leave?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates his job sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll compensate for your trip, again, I’m really sorry this is all last minute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You think?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a sharp breath in, keeping his hands from trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, but why me? I edit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man rubs his chin, his beard was quite long, fingers were strumming through them. Keiji wonders if he’d look silly with a beard. He can’t imagine growing facial hair, it seems like another thing to maintain, he can hardly keep up with his own hectic sleep schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your past work really stood out for this artist, he says he knows you through some friend in high school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That piqued his interest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name is Tenma Udai. Heard of him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Childish excitement gives him the energy to look forward to the trip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” He clears his throat out of embarrassment. “Sorry, I know of him.” The gym they met for the first time really shocked him, but it was one he still remembers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, you’ll meet him there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forgot how pissed off he was. The buzz in his pocket brings him down from cloud nine.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>watermelon or strawberries?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He really wanted to have dinner with them, he felt like a disappointment for having to bail. He hesitates, biting his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i have to leave for a trip tonight.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs continue to shake under his desk, fingers tapping nervously. The phone starts to ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Tadashi’s voice rings through. “What time are you leaving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lets his voice soak into his brain, as if he’ll never hear it again. “In 3 hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s soon. Alright, I’ll pack you some dinner for the ride. Will you need a place to stay over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, bless his angel heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m meeting up with Tenma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tenma? That’s cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’m sorry for bailing on dinner tonight, I’ll make it up to when I get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi’s laugh sends pleasuring shivers, the insides of his ear tickles. “Bring back something cute!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ride was kind of lonely, he was comfortable in the seats, head against the window. The vibration of the vehicle soothed him, feeling like a baby falling asleep in the car seat. Tenma had sent a quick text, telling him he’d meet him at the station. His apartment wasn’t far, but he still couldn’t believe he was going to room with him for a few days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he loves his job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The train slowed down, an announcer voice cutting in his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh boy.” He groans, stretching out his legs. A crick in his neck begging to be cracked. His suit was packed, thanks to Kei for teaching him how to pack properly, and his stomach full of another delicious meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whips around, the long haired man running up to him. Keiji waves back, walking quickly to meet him. What he wasn’t expecting was Tenma pulling him into a sudden hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” He laughs. “Hey to you too, Tenma-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tenma is fine.” Tenma pulls back, patting the sides of his shoulders. “How’ve you been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji used to be stumped, struggling to find the words. Debating between lacking sleep or tired of life, he finally has something a bit lighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing well.” Yeah, lighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, you must be tired.” Tenma makes a move to carry his luggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji didn’t have enough time to stop him, too tired to move quickly. Sleep was taking over, his legs didn’t feel like his own. He didn’t recognize how fast everything around him was moving, the lights blurred together, people turned into blobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get some rest, we got a lot of work ahead of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safe to say, sleep instantly washed over. If Tadashi was there, he’d drag him to his feet to brush his teeth at least. But he’ll deal with the consequences later. His head hits the pillow, burying himself under thick blankets and a small heater pointed in his direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From what he’s seen for a few seconds, it reminded him of his old apartment, except not messy. There were large stacks and eraser shavings by a desk, giggling as his eyes became heavier.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This feels familiar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Before everything fell apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You awake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am now.” Keiji’s voice is raw and sore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, I made some plain eggs cause we got to leave fast.” Tenma rushes around the apartment, his pants scuffling against the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji turns over, his head groggy and sluggish, it’s too much to open his eyes. That is, until the teapot starts screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” He sits up rapidly, shoving the blankets aside. “I forgot I had to call someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i hope you got there safely! kei says you’re probably asleep but text me when you see this.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes the blanket in his hand, twisting as his stomach flops back and forth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your girlfriend?” Tenma gulps down a piece of egg on toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shakes his head. “A good friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma hums, chopsticks tapping the edge of his bowl. “Boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-” Keiji stutters for a fraction of a second, biting his tongue immediately from exposing himself any further. “Haha, funny.” He lets the sarcasm drip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma shows a broad smile, he was kind and sweet, but a little devil when he wants to tease. He can make you feel like you have a spot reserved at a part to wanting to fall off the face of the planet out of embarrassment. It’s impressive.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>sorry, i was really tired. but im fine, i’ll bring back gifts.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He was surprised, he didn’t miss home as much as he thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder why…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you up for the task today?” asked Tenma, carrying his dishes to the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks up. “What are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to study the bridge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was told, but why me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma pushes pencils and papers into a backpack, shoving everything in. “I’m writing a volleyball manga, and I was hoping you could help me with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’ve played volleyball.” Keiji thinks if he needed a person’s opinion, it could’ve been anyone but him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did, but I wanted someone who’s close to a star player.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma nods. “I’m writing a romance sports anime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… wait, what?” Keiji stumbled forward. “Romance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got it!” Tenma holds the straps, feet shuffling into his shoes. “I need some character references and I thought, who better than you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t someone else fit your description more?” Keiji was starting to have regrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want someone who is stoic and cool, but overthinks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ouch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no! It’s not a bad thing. I just thought I could be in your head for this character.” Tenma waits for Keiji to scramble around the room, watching and laughing whenever he trips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And for the love interest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma shrugs. “I was thinking about someone who’s bubbly and cheerful, but I think I want someone who’s sweet like berries. Quiet. You know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Berries can be sour.” Keiji points out, sliding his foot in his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe someone who’s nice on the outside, yet sassy in private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tadashi.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know someone like that.” Keiji accidentally lets it slip. His cheeks warm up, turning his head around quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma’s eyes widen. “You do? Tell me more!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji starts to panic when Tenma takes off his backpack to pull out a small notebook. “Wait, we can do that later. We should get going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, he’s seen this bubbly energy from Hinata. The burst of excitement over simple things, makes him miss the orange head. Bokuto and Hinata work together, he wonders if he can visit them during practice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I want to go to see Bokuto or Hinata?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes the thought off, he needs to be in work mode.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who were you talking about earlier?” Tenma mindlessly walks, his feet knowing the path straight to their destination. Keiji has yet to ask why they had to study there, there’s lots of bridges in Tokyo they could’ve gone to. Hell, even a picture online could have been helpful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are we going in person?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma stops walking, turning around to face him. At first, Keiji thought he said something wrong or offensive, he could feel the anxiety build up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a scene in mind.” He confesses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks up, his shoulders drops as the mere sight of sakura petals dancing in the air around them. The trees were losing their colors as winter approached. Just the air itself makes his entire body feel lighter, shivering as the small chill touches the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Tenma snaps his finger, pulling out the same small notebook. “Now, you stand over there while I sketch out a reference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait…” Keiji shuffles backward, waving his hand. “You want me to model for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma sits on the floor, not even glancing at the passerbyers that send strange expressions towards him. He was always like this, peculiar, a strange artifact where no one bothers to look. Only few appreciate the beauty of something eccentric yet alluring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji makes his way closer to the bridge, his hand hovering over the railing. He can tell the metal is cold, his back shivering from barely touching it. A static wave stabs through his hand, up to his arm. He wasn’t expecting to be shocked, but it sends a bolt of enthusiasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one expects to be used as a model reference, Keiji didn’t think badly of himself, he thought of himself as someone in the background. It was Bokuto who taught him otherwise, the feeling of being a part of someone’s world, it was majestic to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders when the scene comes to life on paper, if anyone will appreciate the figure. Well, if Tenma was making it, there’ll be many people who will come to love the characters.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, if he wanted someone stoic, it might as well be Tsukishima.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei and Tadashi were in his mind, constantly living rent free. Not that he was complaining, he can still count the soft spoken conversations early in the morning, and the tired lullabies Tadashi hums as he strokes their hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji whips his head around, a friendly face with pale golden eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi!” Bokuto slams into him, his arms crushing his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto!” Tenma runs up, furiously scribbling a few words. “Sorry, I just like the way you two interacted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pays no mind, offering a kind smile of understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tenma, how you’ve been?” Bokuto takes his wrist, shaking him back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma laughs, his eyes dance around a light. “I’m good, I’m using Akaashi as a model for my manga.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohh.” Bokuto turns around quickly, taking Keiji’s wrists next. “You’re a model now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji forgets to breathe, the close contact makes his body suffer. Heat in the early days of winter? Almost impossible if it weren’t for Bokuto. Everything is practically possible with him around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just standing here as a reference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want him to be my muse.” Tenma’s elbow lay against the railing, his knuckles digging into his cheek. “I want to use him as the main character.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? That sounds fun…” Bokuto’s grip loosens, stepping back to view his friend. His index finger taps his chin, focusing on who knows what. “I see it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?” Tenma cuts in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Akaashi would make a good protagonist.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sighs, giving up on their form of communication. Must be for people who are balls of energy bouncing around the walls. How has anyone not jumped out the window, especially Kageyama and Kei. Them especially. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?’ The blonde leaves his mind rapidly, focusing on two people looking concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lunch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it time already?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes, tempted to pull it out, but not wanting to look away for a second before he gets lost. He’s familiar with certain parts of Tokyo, but some things looked completely different. Like some whole other prefecture.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>kei’s bday is coming soon. i can’t decide to cook a feast or make plans at a restaurant.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Ahh, birthdays. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This should be celebrated between the two of them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart pulls away.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>go out. date nights are nice.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>hm, i’ll see if there’s a reservation for three.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Three?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>is his brother coming?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>no. lol don’t tell me you weren’t gonna be here to celebrate. </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>me?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>oF COURSE! you don’t want to join us? :(</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Not the sad face, Keiji can’t deal with Tadashi’s sad face. He always gives in so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i’ll join! tsukishima doesn’t like crowded places, so maybe we can just celebrate at home.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i was thinking the same. good luck with work! &lt;3</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Leave it to Tadashi to make him crumble into chocolate cookie pieces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi, who are you talking to?” Bokuto wraps an arm around his shoulder, so casual with his fluid movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shoves the phone straight into his chest, protecting it at all cost. “No one, what are we eating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ramen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds great.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lunch ended up as dinner. It’s to be expected when food takes awhile, especially if they’re making everything fresh. Keiji had patience for it, though Bokuto was struggling sitting still in his seat for a few minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only way to keep him calm was to talk nonstop about volleyball, a specialty Keiji pats himself on the back for. Volleyball wasn’t Bokuto’s entire life, but once he starts talking about the rush of it, he describes how much adrenaline pumps through him. How the entire world slows down before he slams the ball onto the other side of the court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma takes notes, taking advantage by writing descriptions. Can’t help but feel a bit sorry for him, the flurry of words spilling out of Bokuto’s lips pressures Tenma to write quickly, a lot of the words look like chicken scratch. Keiji admits he’s done the same before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...and when my hands meet the ball, my eyes follow the ball, watching the spin and sweat fly off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto, that’s gross.” Keiji chuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma nods. “That’s pretty fascinating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tenma, haven’t you experienced anything similar?” Keiji has to ask. “You were the ace at Karasuno, correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it feels so long. I wasn’t super intense like everyone is now. You’re all monsters.” Tenma laughs out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opens his mouth, but the food arrives, pushing his train of thoughts aside and trying not to focus on the slurps coming from Bokuto. It’s silly, yet still nice. He hasn’t changed completely, and he’s thankful for that. In a way, it felt like they were back in high school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you and Bokuto were so close.” Tenma stalks off, his hands clutching the straps loosely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been friends since high school.” Keiji presses the power button on his phone. There’s a few unopened messages.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma (1)</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Bokuto (3)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He’ll get to them later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seemed kinda off today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did?” Keiji could have sworn things were okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kind of like… you have something in the back of your mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got a girlfriend in mind?” Tenma teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Keiji’s feet scuff the ground, almost tripping on nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” He pops up his collar, dusting his shoulders. “I’m not in a relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I thought you were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kind of thought you and Bokuto were dating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji stops walking, his breathing shortens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t hurt. Nothing hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not hurt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s feet tickle, the back of his knees weaken. “Sorry, I just realized something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Tenma racks his brain around. “Like something good or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a deep breath, his fingers pushing up his glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Definitely good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes in the middle of the night. Forgetting to read the previous received messages, he unlocks it quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>hey uh, bokuto says you’re here for a few days. so i was wondering if you wanted to get some coffee before you go back?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>It was well past 4 am. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i’ll have to see if Tenma acquires my assistance. we’ve been pretty busy.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>that’s fine. i was just wanted to ask if you were moving in with bokuto or not. He says you needed time to think about it.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bites his lip, he’s been avoiding that topic for a few days. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>yeah, i needed to think things through.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i was kinda surprised.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>why?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>you two were inseparable… do you not like him anymore?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>ofc i do, we’re still good friends. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>so why not move in?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to do this right now. He’s too tired and not in the right mindset.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Will I ever be in the right mindset?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i asked yamaguchi if you had mentioned him moving out.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He did what?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>what?? why?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He forgot the text was received awhile back. Work ate up all his free time.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>he said you hadn’t brought it up, but he hoped you would at least still visit them from time to time.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, it’s Kenma. Of course he’s still up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>oh. i see.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The dry message makes him want to shrivel up.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>good luck.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud. His hand comes down to slap his mouth shut, keenly listening for any movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, there’s none.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>what do you mean good luck? </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>:)</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You freakin-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>tsukishima got mad at me today.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>what happened?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i told him you should’ve moved out before but he got mad, saying that you should decide what’s best for you yada yada yada. i kind of fazed out cause i was just shocked he yelled at me. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>That was… sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>lol you deserve it</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>must be nice to be close to Tsukishima </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Close.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Close?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>we’re not close. we live together.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>from what he said? i think you guys are pretty close.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Keiji is curious, but he’s too tired to keep his eyelids open any longer. Sleep held him by the ends of his hair, he could barely keep his phone up.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>i need to sleep. im really tired.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo:</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>alright. gn.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tsukishima stood up for me… Me? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A sweet, satisfying twinge of pleasure strums his heartstrings. His stomach must’ve done a thousand flips, he lost count after 4. He didn’t want to overthink, didn’t dare to think that the Tsukishima Kei was worried about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his actions proved otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They share Tadashi’s thighs to lay their heads on, the sweet scents of cakes and coffee while they sit out on his mother’s porch. Movie nights, heads falling onto shoulders. He couldn’t believe just how much he’s gotten away with.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They see you only as a friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. The thought slices through him, cutting him in half. The pain makes his throat dry, difficult to swallow. His lips chapped, tongue feeling heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was silly of him to think something more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It haunts him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows if he tries to reach out, they’ll turn their backs to him, never speaking to him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji knows he’ll have to stop, quit being around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave up loving his best friend for two people he’ll never have.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It hurts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s to be expected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s feet wander off, taking him to a small store. A pottery shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches an elderly woman, tapping the end of her paintbrush to the side of her head. Deep thoughts made her forehead wrinkle, concentrating deeply at a plain mug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something mystifying about the place, his hands grab the handles of the doors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, welcome!” She calls out, putting down her brush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi…” He’s confused as to why he even entered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman looks at him, head tilting as she studies him. “Oh, mind helping me with something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji would’ve said no, but her eyes and hands made him feel like he was back at his grandmother’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” He relents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t decide what to design this cup.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” He shifts in his spot, feet hurting from walking for so long. Tenma had everything he needed, giving him today off before he leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit, sit.” She offers a seat in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitates, testing the waters by taking a few steps forward. “So what did you have in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I wanted a pastel green background, but I can’t decide to leave it or decorate it with something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Keiji leans forward, the mug beautifully handcrafted. “What about…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mugs at home came into his mind, the lack of color and decor. He was only able to find a few things while shopping with Tadashi. Most of it were simple things, things that they could all enjoy. But nothing that spoke out to them, nothing that was truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strawberries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei’s birthday was around the corner, his mind jumped around the made up scenarios on how Kei would hate him if he got him something cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji decides to take the chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strawberries! That’s cute.” She nods, fingers lightly brushing the pain over the mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was mesmerized, her handiwork was delicate, confident. Things he could admire and watch over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She focuses, her tongue sticking out as she makes clean, smooth strokes. Some strawberries were cut in half, light pink in the middle. Some were whole. The color scheme isn't bright, overly done. It was rather muted, soft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear, it’s almost time for dinner.” She sets the mug to dry, a clutter of paintbrushes lay on the newspapers spread out on the table. “Would you like some tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji should say no, he didn’t want to burden a stranger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the mug…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s alright with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her laughter chimes through him, bouncing off the walls. “Of course!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks back at the mug, his loss of breath makes his head spin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about it screamed out, the name ‘Kei’ spinning around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to sell it?” He asks, watching her sturdy hands set the cups and kettle down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji gulps. “Would you mind selling it to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all, dear. You helped me figure out the design, it should be yours.” She waves a hand. “You don’t have to pay me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shakes his head. “No, please. It’s the least I can do for taking your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You kept me company, let me give it to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pouts, their eyes staring at each other, none of them wanting to back down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” he sighs out, “but I will come back to pay you for something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs behind her cup.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. black</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you think maybe… you could tell me what he likes so I know what to get him?” Kuroo’s cheeky grin hides behind the stack of papers he’s holding. There are forms to fill out and he’s not the one to them in silence, despite making lots of mistakes due to distractions all around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Keiji responds. His hand rests around the paper cup. “What’s in this again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sticks his tongue out. “Not telling you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fair</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Keiji thinks. It could’ve been karma for wasting all that coffee at the cafe the last time they came together. He hadn’t realized he avoided this place until Kuroo asked to hang out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re always busy,” Kuroo complains. The papers are messily placed into a briefcase, not bothering to sift through them properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bites back his tongue, not wanting to stir the pot even further. He doesn’t want them to reach boiling point again. Once was enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since I started work again, it’s been difficult to manage my own free time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you say yes to everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he chuckles, “I’ve been trying to figure out myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My emotions are a mess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you having a crisis too?” Kuroo’s eyebrows curve into a worried look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji raises his, surprised and taken aback. “No, nothing like that. What do you mean ‘too’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo clicks his tongue. “Kenma has been asking me the meaning of life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t bother hiding his laughter. It spills out like white dandelion seed heads, spreading and soaring through all directions. Kuroo catches them, laughing along as the wind carries it out further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been awhile,” Kuroo smiles widely, “since we hung out like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji raises the cup to his lips, readying his throat so as to not spit it out instantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cappuccino.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The foam sits on his upper lip, tickling him and causing his mouth to twitch. He wipes it off with a napkin in the middle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about last time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kuroo shakes his head, “I kept pushing you. I shouldn’t have done that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were right to feel that way. I was being too stupid to see how I was affecting you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, I shouldn’t have been so angry at you. You needed a break and I had no right to force you out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wanted to keep explaining it wasn’t his fault, but he knew Kuroo for years. They could continue like this back and forth as long as they want.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you allowed Tsukishima and Yamaguchi in.” Kuroo’s arms are folded on the table, leaning in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was kind of forced out of my own home.” Keiji awkwardly chuckles, his hand making its way to wrapping around the cup. “Tadashi is pretty convincing when he’s passionate about something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yamaguchi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohh, interesting. You’re on a first name basis?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles a little, a bit prideful of the fact. “Yeah, we’ve gotten pretty close. Turns out we have a lot more in common than the usual taste in books and movies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So another nerd like you?” teases Kuroo, his smirk familiar and thin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Keiji tries to defend himself. “You’re just upset you don’t see the good in Star Trek.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Spare me the lecture, Sherlock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sherlock isn’t from Star Trek. You’re talking about Spock aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” Kuroo coughs into his fist. “So you and Tsukishima?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji noted his mistake. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I bet Tadashi would find this funny. Tsukishima would never let Kuroo live it down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two are on a first name basis too?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Kuroo cocks his head to the side. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji grimaces. “This is Tsukishima we’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. He’s as constipated as Bokuto when he has dairy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sputters uncontrollably. “You’re disgusting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, failing to keep himself from laughing. Their conversation and habits are unhidden from the rest of the world. They fall back into place, the cracks in their friendship slowly fills up with golden linings. Glittering and shining, repaired and imperfect. He misses it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He misses them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lied to himself that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I shouldn’t have just told them the truth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo?” he calls out. “I’m glad we’re friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo looked at him, eyes widening as his mouth dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too, buddy. Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji realizes he hardly ever talked about his feelings. He gave opinions, facts, advice, but never admitted anything like that. It felt good. It’s nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should do it more often.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Living with someone you love changes you. Change is neither good nor bad in Keiji’s eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s hands crinkle the bag further, listening to the sound of paper. His palms were sweaty, ideas forming in his head. There’s nothing in his mind besides the idea of being evicted for something ridiculous. He knows it’s a long shot that it’ll happen, Tadashi and Kei aren’t like that at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m overthinking…” he mumbles to himself, the bag placed in the empty seat beside him. He was almost too afraid of leaving it alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if we crash and it gets smashed into pieces? I mean, the concept of dying isn’t scary but this is handmade, it has to get to Tsukishima no matter what.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” his head falls back on the seat, “I can’t sleep like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks over the seat, finding a few heads shifting around as the train moves. It was way past midnight, everyone was dead asleep, and here Keiji was being a worrywart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone had a few unread messages. Guess now is a better time to sift through them.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Mother:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Grandmother’s birthday party is next saturday. 10 am sharp.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji mutters a curse, rubbing his entire face with a hand. There’s nothing more annoying than being forced to a family event, especially when you have plans already. As tempting as it is to tell her no, he didn’t want to start another argument. It never turned into a yelling fest, it turned into something worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence of disapproval and discontent haunts him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates the shivering, cold look of anger in a calming face. Her eyes looked set on one thing. The disappointment. Disappointment in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji types out a messenger, deletes the last two words, types it out again, and shuts the phone off. He hates the feeling of his empty stomach rapidly sloshing nothing around, seeking something to burn. His nervous habit of chewing on his bottom lip begins again. He didn’t even have lip balm to help him stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing ever prepares you for your own mother still haunting you from afar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He imagines every scenario of confronting her going wrong. The cage walls closing in on him, no padlock around to help him escape. He was nothing but a small bird in the hands of a predator’s claws.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens his eyes suddenly, looking around for any sign to show this is all a bad dream. The memory of falling asleep is nonexistent. The windows were still closed, the curtains only allowing a crack of sunlight to hit the bag next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he remembers now. He takes the bag, nervously opening it. His stomach calms down the rising storm as he sees the mug in one piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whew,” he sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was another anxious day, and Keiji could do nothing but let it trouble him. At least, that was until Kei’s name popped up on his phone. It wasn’t a phone call, but a text. A simple text to make him feel jittery and happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>when are you coming back?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bites back his smile, failing when he feels the corner of his lips curl.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>two hours or so. why? you miss me? lol</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Toss in an ‘lol’ and it’s like you’re not being serious about it. He’s learned that much from Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>eh. sure. Tadashi wants to plan out breakfast, that’s all.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s cheeks must have fallen off. There’s no way he can function as an adult now. He’s being thrown back to high school, the giddy crush you have on someone is refreshing, and most importantly, familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like a safe haven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who knew he was quite the sappy romantic? Keiji sure wasn’t expecting it.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>aww whatever you say Tsukishima. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not expecting a message back, that’s how it always is with the blonde. You get the last word in. It’s not Kei being rude, he just had nothing else to say and he left it as it is. Though most people can’t tell since Kei walks away from people mid-conversation. He’s a secret book, no one but the ones who’s allowed in understands him well. Keiji isn’t sure where he fits in. Some days he’s allowed a few pages, others he can’t get past the title page. He’s not complaining, he can at least boast confidently he’s closer to Kei than Kuroo. That seems to easily wild him up, at least from what Kenma had said a few days ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time passes by quickly whenever he thinks about Kei and Tadashi. Their voices replayed in his head, sending electric shocks to the back of his head. A familiar, warm buzz tickles down to his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was trapped on the sap, dripping down a large tree. The stability he craves slowly slips by, realizing sooner or later, he’d have to leave. He wouldn’t go back on his word, he told Kenma he’d make the most of it, and damn it. He absolutely will. No matter how much it hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if they’ll kick me out once they want personal space. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He slept on the living room sofa…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if they need it at night and I’m hogging it too much?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not recommended to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>sleep, but it is their home. Oh, his head felt heavy. His eyelids are heavy with exhaustion. Things were beginning to fade, the voices grew louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And back to sleep he went. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji wakes up to a small hand shaking him lightly. The neatly dressed employee letting him know their destination is only a few minutes away. He quietly and gratefully thanks the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tiniest things make him have little faith in people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown bag is tightly clutched in his hands, shaking as his nerves caused him to tremble. He hopes Kei would like the gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sure he’ll appreciate anything you give him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei is nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then again, he laughed at the shirt Bokuto gave me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei is a mystery book you’re too scared to read because you know you always blame the wrong person for the murders. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god, I want to go back to Tenma.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The thoughts buzz louder, hands sweating as the scenery through the windows being to clear. The familiar bench with the weird graffiti comes into view, his seat directly stopping at the initials in the middle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>K + T</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait a minute,” he squints harder. The ‘K’ has a small curve to it, instantly recognizing the handwriting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out his phone, his bag around his shoulder, flops side to side as he walks out the train.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>did you write your given name initials on a bench?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>what?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>lol yeah he did</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>TADASHI</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>we were going to different universities. He wrote them so i would see them everytime i came back home.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Tsukishima, you sappy ass romantic</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>i hate you both</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>&lt;3</b>
</p><p>
  <span>You learn something new everyday. Keiji didn’t think that was possible. Until today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today Keiji learned that Kei isn’t as scary or mysterious as he seems.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s just a doof under all those layers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s phone laid to rest on the coffee table. Each call was sent straight to voicemail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to answer that?” Kei sipped his coffee, newspaper roughly tossed to the middle of the dining table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s usual to be in two different parts of the apartment, and still carry a light, strange conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Kei doesn’t miss a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shuffles in his seat, sighing heavily when another call comes in. “I don’t want to talk to them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clicks his tongue when the phone sends another missed call notification.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, be the last.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His prayers were ignored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My step-dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your step-dad.” Kei echoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My grandmother's birthday is this weekend.” Keiji isn’t sure why he’s coming undone. He’s not sure why his stomach churns, throat tightening at the mere mention of his family. He’s done everything he can to avoid them, thinking he’d never have to see them again once he left for college.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s your birthday, too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei sighs, his fingers tapping. “Let me guess, you don’t have a good relationship with your family, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seems to be a common theme with everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“10 am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nods, biting inside his cheek. “I love my grandmother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what’s stopping you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother.” Keiji almost smacks himself. The dread of the sensitive topic makes the tip of his tongue slam behind his teeth. He seethes, his tongue rubbing ferociously, side to side as his anger starts to pull him apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another call comes in. This time from his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei is about to click his tongue at him, but the dread dripping from Keiji’s words makes him pause. He rapidly, but smoothly, walks and seats himself next to Keiji. He watches Keiji’s fist clutch deeply into his knee. Kei looks back at the phone, the three letter words makes his stomach twist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Answer it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei looks at him, a tad bit intimidating. “Just do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji gulps, his hand strikes and swipes the phone off the table. They tremble as he tries to slide the green button across the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The harsh breath on the other side slices through him. Not a word has been said, and he’s already wanting to curl up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why haven’t you been answering your father’s calls?” Her raspy, chilly voice sends an itch down his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was in the middle of work,” he lies. He frantically looks around the coffee table, watching the light reflect from the ceiling. His other hand constantly gripping tightly onto the cushions. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a cold finger inside his hand, looping itself to unfurl Keiji’s hold. He doesn’t dare look at the person, but he can feel the tiny comfort it radiates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you listening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji counts to three. “Yes,” he responds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re expected to visit this upcoming Saturday. And don’t bring anything that’ll embarrass us again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji cringes, his eyelids feeling glued to the bottom. He takes a silent breath, teeth slightly grinding. The finger in his hand wiggles around, loosening his hold. Keiji was almost tempted to grab Kei’s hand, weave their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I have other plans this weekend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t like the way she said that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other plans, you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pulls the phone away, his throat clenched. He took a loud gulp, his knees bouncing around while Kei’s finger slowly massaged the top of his palm. It’s a strange form of comfort, yet so ‘Kei’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Work calls,” he lied. He mentally patted himself for saying it without a hint of guilt or stutter. It was convincing, at least on his end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And family doesn’t?” The scrutiny, tantalizing judgement in her voice. There’s no escaping it, the wrath his mother weaved around him. The web that controls him like a wooden puppet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a small sigh beside him, Kei’s finger pulling out completely. Keiji bites back a whine, his hand feeling empty and cold. The phone is immediately pulled away from him, the mute button pressed firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, pause, what the hell is going on?” Kei demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sucks air through his teeth. “What does it look like?” he bites back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei doesn’t say anything, listening to the deafening silence on the other end. “Okay, I think I have an idea, but I’m only doing this because it’s mentally suffering seeing this unfurl.” He flips the phone to his ear, noticing he forgot to unmute it. “Dang it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mute is taken off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji can see seconds, numbers, equations all around his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Akaashi’s agent, he has quite a busy schedule, so if you can please call again later during break or perhaps call through the main office to set up an appointment, that would be very appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a busy man, as you can tell. He just came back from travelling overseas for an upcoming manga.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji felt like he was in a movie, the scene like a child concocting a genius plan. This was a moment he’ll remember and laugh every time he tells the tale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone clicks. He blinks away his surprise, catching the phone mid-air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.” Kei gets up, his knees popping as he walks towards the kitchen. “What should I make?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was still in shock, the entire scenario lasting for a few minutes. It was a dream in his head. His mouth gaped, looking back on his phone’s lock screen. There’s a message from his step-father, asking if he needed anything for his next trip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What trip? What’d you tell her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weren’t you listening?” Kei rolls his eyes, the knife swinging in a circle as he peaks around the corner. “Should I make curry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need that.” Keiji points at his hands. “And no, not really, I was just surprised you’re good at acting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Improv,” Kei smirks. “When you’re surrounded by idiots who want to do nothing but play volleyball, you get really good at lying to get away from them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thinks over. He’s never had to lie to get out of anything, he willingly stood by Bokuto’s side, despite feeling tired and aching all over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me you’ve never lied before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I haven’t, at least to this extent,” he remembered the first time meeting Kuroo and Bokuto after going AWOL for months. “Does avoiding count?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei shrugs. “I don’t think so, if that was your intention, then that’s probably something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” Keiji sets his phone down back on the coffee table. “Need help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. You know how to make curry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, but that’s what the internet is for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei chuckles warmly. “I like how you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I learned from the best.” Keiji lets himself smile, snarky and the tip of his tongue poking out. “What kind of curry did you have in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beef?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei sets down the knife, the cabinets opening and closing. “I wonder if Tadashi gets the boxes for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji licks his lips, eyes darting away from the thin sight of Kei’s stomach. The exposed skin makes him flush. “He makes everything from scratch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Kei curses. “Pull up a recipe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nods, his fingers already hovering over a recipe right on the first page of Google. Beef curry is always good. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei looks at him, eyebrows raised. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Keiji pulls his collar. “We need a buttload of ingredients.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course we do.” Kei rolls his eyes, walking towards the other. His eyes slowly widen as the list of ingredients grows larger. “Damn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, how are we gonna do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does Tadashi do this everyday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks up at him. “You’re one lucky dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t deserve him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he heard that, he’d kick your ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei clicked his tongue, arms crossing over the other. The tips of his ears were raging red. Keiji took in the sight, drank it in. He took in every color of Kei, piecing them together, stitching them delicately into his memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could always order takeout?” Keiji suggests, never missing the drop of relief coming from the blonde. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god you have a brain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell happened?” Tadashi was greeted to a strange scent of burning plastic and raw flour particles flying onto his work shirt. “I leave you guys to make dinner and this is what I come home to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words leave him, breathless, shocked. Flour splattered on the walls, an apple in the blender without the cover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d you guys burn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji and Kei stood in the kitchen, hands behind their backs. Flour dusted their shoulders, swiped around their cheeks. The apple stripped of its outer layer, terribly cut into pieces. He can’t picture what exactly went on in the kitchen, so much has happened. Everything was all over the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We uh, left a wrapper by the fire?” Kei poorly explained. The plastic wrapper that contained frozen bits of vegetables laid on the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did that happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shifted before stating really quickly, “Tsukishima carelessly tossed it right by the pan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei.” Tadashi pinched the bridge of his nose. “I left </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> in charge of dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him to order takeout…” Keiji muttered. Kei looked at him, scrutinizing him under his mild glare. There’s no ill intent, considering he did drag him into the mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why didn’t you, Kei?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei shrugs, flour falling out. He coughs as he inhales sharply. “My pride…” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My pride,” he says louder. His face filled up with a scarlet color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji could laugh, but was too afraid of Tadashi’s silent wrath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi sighs. “I’ll order some food from the restaurant nearby. Please be careful when cleaning up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei nods, his sleeves pushing up to his elbows. Keiji makes his way to the cabinet under the sink, towels neatly stacked at the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not you, Keiji, you’re coming with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei groans a little too loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that, Kei?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry you got dragged into his mess,” Tadashi pats the seat next to him. The outside bench shocked Keiji’s arm. He rubs at it, almost letting out a yelp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like it’s sort of my fault.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi’s feet swing. “What was he planning to make?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” a small drop of sweat forms above Tadashi’s eyebrow. “I guess I should buy boxed curry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks over at him, completely in shock. “You make it from scratch every time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Tadashi chuckles. “Did you really think I make everything from a box?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tadashi softly shakes his head. “I really like cooking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did your grandmother teach you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hispanic?” Keiji watches a child trip over their footing. The mother whips around, falling to their side. Her hand rubs the spot, singing effortlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Half,” Tadashi responds, watching the scene before them. His eyes soften, watery along the edges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” Keiji waits. Tadashi’s knee bounces for a few minutes, shaking the bench. The air between feels hollow, sounds ooze into Keiji’s ear. The sudden deafness bites inside his ear, tickling inside him. “What’d you get?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Tadashi’s knees still. “I got Udon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s shoulders let down. “It is getting kind of cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The weather is weird.” Tadashi’s nose sniffs the air, the smell of savory broth fills their lungs. “Global warming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji admires, his eyes feel hot. It could be a fever forming, or the fact that he’s deeply in love with the freckles scattered across the tan skin. He can see tiny spirals of stars glimmer across the horizon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tadashi nimbly picked the tissue paper, shaping them to look like a blossoming flower. His nails shined under the orange tinted light Keiji was shining on him. He can see the tiny splatters of freckles around his wrist and forearms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He counted them, lips tingling as he imagined the smooth skin under his. The temptation to drag a finger across, feeling and teasing him. He shakes his head, back burning as shame washes over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn it, Keiji. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s never had such intrusive thoughts, consuming and picturing vivid images in his head. Just this morning he woke up to-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s cheeks burned. His pants feeling a little tighter, a small thump behind his zipper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” he clears his throat. “I’m gonna go use the washroom before he gets here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi doesn’t look up, humming and pushing the bag aside. “Alright, don’t take too long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When have I ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last time you were in there for 30 minutes because you realized dogs might go to a different form of heaven than humans.” Tadashi looks over, smirking as Keiji’s eyes widened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humans will never meet their best friends in death.” he gulps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi gives a small, hearty laugh. He pats Keiji’s back, pushing him a little towards the hall. “Hurry up, Keiji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets the cold water wash over him, soothing him, jerking him back to reality. Bittersweet relief courses through his veins, a pleasurable chill feasting on his blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Way to go, Keiji. Pop a boner at a birthday celebration.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If he lived through to see the day, he’d laugh about this later with someone. Kenma might tease him about this for the rest of his life. Better him than Kuroo. Or worse: Sugawara. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shivers, his insides shrivel and scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, at least I didn’t have to think about grandma’s to make it go away this time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sends a quick text to Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji: </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>something absolutely horrid just happened but i think you’ll have a laugh.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone slides into his left pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay in there?” Tadashi knocks softly, his knuckles hardly scratch the wood surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a deep breath, gathering his impure thoughts and impulse, tossing them into a large waste basket full of dirty laundry and notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi had a few plants around the house. The citrus tree, labeled Cibelle by Kei, finds itself seated by the hallway’s entrance. There’s a slight orange scent in its vicinity. Keiji can sometimes smell it when the wind travels through the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Kei’s choice of the name ‘City Boy’ was disapproved. Tadashi wasn’t going to name it that just to have someone unfamiliar with English to call it ‘shitty’ by accident. Though it would have been hilarious, Keiji didn’t want to face Tadashi’s wrath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei’s betrayed look was worth it. He has yet to be ‘grounded’, luckily for him, Keiji learned to tread carefully around certain topics.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unsaid Rule #1: Do not laugh, joke, or make a sarcastic remark on a serious topic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>This was easily guessed by the way Tadashi sent Kei to the room a few times. Keiji almost remembers that day clearly, but his current mess of emotions stirs him around, his head a blender of complications. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look stuck.” Tadashi points out, looking back to the table. The corner of a napkin sticks out from under the plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am?” Keiji focuses on a stray thread, wanting to pull it out, untangle the entire cloth. His frustration building up, stumping him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi hums, opening the drawer to pull out a small pair of scissors. The semi-sharp blades trap the thread, cutting straight into it. The small piece is rolled around between his index and thumb. Giggling whenever it tickles the tip of his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you worried?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi shrugs. “Anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thinks for a second. Almost enticed with the idea of blurting out his confessions. “Not really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it is, you’ll have us.” Tadashi reminds him, again and again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” again and again, Keiji remembers and treasures it. “I wish I could be there for you two more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” The thread falls straight into the garbage bin, the flaps row back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant, personally. Internal struggles, the works.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Tadashi stores the scissors back. “You have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji whips his head, the room spinning for a split millisecond. His vision hyperfocusing Tadashi’s shoulders, buff and homely. “I have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi walks behind Keiji, his hands slightly massaging his shoulders. “You helped plenty with my anxiety attacks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s true…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Tsukishima…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about him.” Tadashi pats him, walking around the table, eyeing every inch of it. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a silent, delicate promise. The sliver of hope fades, but not entirely. It’s calm, a tiny pebble, not heavy, but not light. It weighs in his palms, warming him. Keiji isn’t exactly sure what he’s feeling. It’s a strange warmth, nothing inappropriate he assures himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s rather fragile, not glass-like, just small. He could lose it if he’s not careful. But he can definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. He can’t pinpoint it exactly, at least for now, he hopes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi knows, but he doesn’t say. Not yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Happy birthday!” Tadashi giggles nonstop, his hands coming undone from Kei’s face. They drag along his jaw, softly strumming down his shoulders and sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah.” Kei didn’t bother putting a facade. He could’ve been tired from practice or work, but the cake with strawberries littered on the sides and top made his entire day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wishes he could do more, but he knows he’s not very good in the kitchen. He learned to make coffee, though he always adds a little too much cinnamon for Kei’s, he still relished in getting Tadashi’s coffee just right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like a bad connection between him and Kei. Something was amiss, nothing bothersome, but nothing right either. Kind of awkward, respectable, just a little off from the landmark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry we’re not going out. I know you prefer to have something small.” Tadashi’s feet bounce, nervously tipping himself back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kei shakes his head. “This is perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji felt like his entire body will dissipate the minute Kei unwraps his present. He knows materials shouldn’t be a big deal, especially with someone as plain as Kei’s decor. He wanted to be thoughtful but not overbearing. If that was possible…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that for me?” Kei looks up and down the bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji sits up too fast, head buzzing and full of cotton. “I uh, I hope you like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi giggles, his hands squeezing Keiji’s shoulders. “Don’t worry so much,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei takes his time pulling out the paper piece by piece. The cup laid to rest on soft tissue paper. He pulls it out, eyes traveling around every perfect curve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this handmade?” Kei flips over the mug, fingers tracing around the edges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji says. “I suggested the design.” For some reason, the whole conversation he had with the old lady felt like a secret, a secret for himself and a stranger. Something he wanted to have for himself until the time was right. Whatever time suggests, he has no clue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei was quiet, eyes marveled at the design. It looks the opposite of everything he owns in the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” Tadashi brings over drinks, two plain white mugs in each hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji stops breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love it,” Kei says softly, smiling as his hand wraps around the handle. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji didn’t bother showing the relief and joy he felt just from that blissful and gracious smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told you,” Tadashi sets down the cup in front of him. Smiles never leaving their faces.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma snorted behind his hand, biting his bottom lip. The thin line on Keiji’s face represented his entire day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-had a boner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At Tsukishima’s birthday celebration?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji groans, the tip of his nose rubs harshly on his sleeve. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you did it to yourself.” Kenma smirks. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be with them right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s cheeks go pink. “I uh, wanted to give them privacy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you were invited to be with them…” Kenma trails off, his brain clicks. “Oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji awkwardly chuckles. “It’s fine, they’re together, they should be allowed the freedom to do such things without me being the third wheel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma shakes his head. “I don’t think they see you like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Keiji’s head feels full, heavy. His head might topple over and roll around the floor. He shivers, his stomach curling inwards. “I wonder if they ever feel too uncomfortable to be intimate around me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looks at him, swirling the foam around in his cup. “It could be out of respect as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji sighs, his shoulders hurt from all the tension. “I guess I should stop overthinking things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma releases a groan, not bothering to stifle it behind his sleeve. “Akaashi.” He pulls the ends of his ponytail. He rolls the end around, forming a loop. “I think you should stick to your words. Enjoy it, don’t think about it too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Kenma cuts him off. “You said so yourself, so if I see you go back on it, I will hunt you down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you threatening me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma takes the small stir out of his cup, pointing at Keiji. The tiny drops of coffee leave tiny splatters on the table. “Don’t make me tell Yamaguchi about you feeling bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why would you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His wrath is as bad as Suga’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shivers, his memory doesn’t fail him when it comes to the scary lectures that follow. Yaku, Suga, and Yamaguchi are the scariest people he’s met. They’re also the sweetest, but don’t let their kind acts fool you. They know how you think. The words will slip into your ears, crawl and worm their way into your head. They can shake you around without laying a single finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine. You win.” Keiji lifts the cup to his lips, the bitterness of the drink makes his tongue curl. He’s not sure how Kei can drink straight up coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe that’s why he adds cinnamon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go back,” Kenma says. The stir on the table, tittering back and forth. “They’re probably worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess.” Keiji finds no reason to argue, he’s seen the worrisome Tadashi almost flip a table over. The anxiety that follows when you haven’t heard from someone in awhile is exhausting. “I should let them know where I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean, you left without saying a word?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma is very close to pulling out his hair. His friends can be frustrating, but he loves them to bits, secretly of course. “You know,” he clears his throat, clearing away the mixture of irritation and frustration. “Bokuto has been asking about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Keiji didn’t mean to sound disappointed, really, he wasn’t expecting to hear his name at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been distant with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have,” he doesn’t deny it. He knows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said you seemed a little off when you met with Tenma.” Kenma knows, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji sits up. “I wasn’t expecting to see him there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was it like?” Kenma asks, watching the sleeves of Keiji’s sweater ride up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strange,” Keiji began, “I wasn’t super happy, I mean he’s still my friend, but there’s something weird about it.” He cuts himself off, the words rise up to his chest, burrowing inside of him. His tongue is dry, poorly hydrating his cracked lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you happy to see him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, but not in a bad way!” Keiji accidentally hits his wrist at the edge of the table. “Ow, it’s just, jeez that hurts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma snorts ungraciously. “Go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a deep breath, the words unfurl and flow out in jagged streaks. “I wasn’t really thinking about him at the time. Tsukishima and Tadashi have been taking so much room in my head, it feels ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, duh, you’re in love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go figure.” Keiji rubs the spot on his wrist. “I feel like I’ve been avoiding him, even when he’s right in front of me, I don’t see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Kenma pushes his fingers onto the table, waiting for the cracks and pops. He smiles content and free from tension in his hands. “You’re still friends, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Keiji says suddenly. The thought of being strangers makes him almost panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do care for him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just not as much as I did…” he mutters. Kenma barely grasped them, the tiny curves at the ends of his lips tell him the answers all along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do care about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma nods, waiting patiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have to be in love with him to still be by his side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally!” Maybe not as patient as Keiji thought. Kenma takes a big swig of his coffee, finishing the last gulp. “I thought you’d never figure it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always think you need a reason for anything,” Kenma says. “Even though you said you’d let things be and enjoy it, you still tried to find an excuse to not enjoy it. You don’t always need a purpose in life to be happy, Akaashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That hit hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When have you been so smart, Kenma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma smirks. “Always have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No seriously, I wonder why you even help me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looks at him in slight shock. “We’re friends, obviously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could be a lot meaner,” Keiji points out. He’s seen the roasts thrown out to Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually respect and tolerate you. Besides, seeing you like this is rather entertaining.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reminder Keiji is told before they depart echoes in his head until his hand touches the doorknob.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t forget to talk to Bokuto, you still need to repair some things. He loves you as a friend, so be his friend too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Friends. Keiji can do that. With Bokuto. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” Kei sighs out, his hand slides to the back of his neck. Keiji would have felt prideful for worrying him, but the fact he was shirtless in the moonlight made his entire body into a puddle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” he jokes, “busy night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei’s cheeks dust a light red. “Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles at him, admiring the muscles and lines on his chest. He hasn’t realized how much they’ve all grown, no longer the skinny volleyball players from high school. Years and years gone by, he can see the hard work on their bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat silently, pulling the edge of his shirt away. Things were getting hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji can assume that Tadashi must have been asleep when he sent his location. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went out to meet Kenma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So late?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like a parent,” Keiji jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei awkwardly shifts to the sofa, his back covered in marks Keiji knew were recently done. The hot air around him is suffocating, his breathing halts for a second. He’s glad he gave them alone time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Kei manages to ask, lifting a hand towards the other end of the sofa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you?” Keiji asks back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei coughs into his hand, a tiny smirk escapes from the sides. “I guess you could say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s back cracks when he sits down, his entire body screaming to take off all his clothes. It was breezy and nice earlier, how did the entire apartment feel like it’s summer?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks to his side, the tiny sliver of silver light beams off of Kei’s glasses. To say he looked ethereal wasn’t enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Giving us privacy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Keiji lets himself be swallowed by the cushions. “This is your apartment, you should be given privacy whenever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ours,” Kei mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that, we don’t mind you being here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji couldn’t control himself. “And what? Listen to your kinks from the other side of the door?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m joking,” Keiji laughs quietly, his throat rumbles as his laughter dies down. He almost missed out on Kei laughing along with him. If Keiji is given one wish, he’d have a time control remote just to replay the small moments that make his heart swell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi really likes you being here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it here, but it’s still not my place.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like I’m crashing here and being a hindrance to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crap,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keiji bites onto his nail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji saw something more. His vision filled with a heavenly sight, enraptured by the glow around the room as the light reflects off every surface. His fingertips ached to run across Kei’s cheek, sliding behind his neck just to press a light kiss on the corner of his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop, not right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsu-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he wasn’t expecting was for Kei to come closer, even if it was an inch. Everything was beginning to be too loud, yet too quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kei shakes his head. “For other things, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other… things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were there for Tadashi. He told me about his anxiety attack at the mall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tree stayed in the same spot, a few stringers on branch from earlier. The post-celebration mess still stayed where they last left it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing,” Keiji shakes it off. The credit was too much to handle. It shouldn’t be a big deal, he did what anyone else would have done.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not nothing,” Kei argues back.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji should really stop denying himself. He didn’t just do it out of love he did it because he really cares for them. Lovers or not, he can still be with them. Though, never being seen as anything more still stung.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” he agrees. “I do care for you both.” The last part slipped, but he didn’t regret it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Kei squirms around, his legs shift to stand up again. The pop returns from his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at the table. It wasn’t that long ago since he and Kei were at the same positions, on the phone with his mother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei walks behind the sofa, stopping at the side. His legs dug into the armrest, reaching out a hand to grasp Keiji’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light contact spread a thousand moths in his heart, all fluttering and gathering, taking in the heat of the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I can be difficult,” Kei leans down, his mouth barely tickling the back of Keiji’s palm. “But I do care for you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s curiosity turned into a deep memory etched into his skin. Kei’s lips were soft, he can now confirm that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji can’t tell you how long he’s been sitting in the same spot. His hand laid to rest on the armrest. The fat drops of tears gliding down his cheeks felt hot. He couldn’t tell if he was really sad or really happy, he was overwhelmed by it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being in love can hurt, but it can feel so goddamn good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I make a dirty joke with him?” he whispers to no one, his cheeks flushing and eyes already dried. “Oh god…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m in deep shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji felt like a tower, a high defense that no one can topple over. But the cracks grew deeper, running up the high walls. He can feel his emotions, captivated for safekeeping, running around rampantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only a matter of time where he cracks and spills over.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He could lose it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Enjoy it, don’t think about it so much.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Must be nice to be close to Tsukishima.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe the pain is worth the sacrifice. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>have a great day!</p><p>a part of me doesn't ever want to finish this fic, but a part is excited to introduce people to this ship. i really hope you all enjoy this as much as i do when i write it.</p><p>once this fic is done, i'll keep writing about them. long oneshots are so fun to write. especially domestic fluff. thankfully, akaashi keiji/tsukishima kei/yamaguchi tadashi is an official tag, so i can stop using other ship tags. it's unfair and doesn't feel right. but i really appreciate everyone who has come to love this ship and fic as much as i do. </p><p>thanks for reading! don't forget to drink water and get a good night's rest.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. frappuccino</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s a small lump in Keiji’s throat, swallowing over and over. Time continued to flow, passing with every second he regrets. He shouldn’t have done what he’s supposed to do, but he had no choice. It was now or never…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to find a present for Tadashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who knew his two biggest crushes had birthdays somewhat close, though he wasn’t really complaining. It’s only October, but he felt like time was really closing in. It was only halfway through the month.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” he swallowed again, the feeling never going away. The back of his eyes hurt, as if he’s been sobbing endlessly for hours. The last time he cried that bad was when he watched a terribly sad movie about a dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, that was literally a few days ago.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei was staying late at practice, and so Tadashi and Keiji were left to do whatever they felt like. Of course Tadashi wanted to watch a sad film, he rather liked watching people suffer. The tears that shed behind covered faces and pillows makes his insides cackle. Tadashi is a real sweetheart, but oh, he can be quite the devil when he wants to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“3 am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sits up immediately, the voice shocking him. “What the hell are you doing there?” he semi-whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo snorts. “For like 10 minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy crap, what are you doing there just staring at me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing just sitting there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lifts his hand in a surrender. “You got me,” he sighs. “I was thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much I want to pummel you to the ground,” Keiji swiftly turns his head around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww,” Kuroo pouts, “really? That’s so sweet of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights turn on. Their eyes blinking rapidly as water wells from the sudden brightness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to explain why you’re both awake at this hour?” Kenma stands by the light switch, finger staying under it. He curls it, ready to flip it, causing their eyes to refocus in the dark once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t stay up this late, but you can?” Kuroo complains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Comes with the job,” Kenma says flippantly. “And why are you bothering our guest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s the one that’s been shifting around so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe because you keep bugging him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not doing shit!” Kuroo throws his hands in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma sighs, the hand under the switch falls to his side. “Want something to drink?” he offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shakes his head, his dry throat screaming, begging for relief. “Actually,” his voice cracks, wincing at the sudden change and tingling from inside, “just water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wine?” Kuroo holds up a bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Water,” Kenma stomps over, snatching the deep burgundy liquid from his grasp. “Alcohol will make him dehydrated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So will soda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll be dehydrated either way, so just drink the wine.” Kuroo attempts to take back the bottle, but Kenma was already locking back into the glass cabinets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you have any alcohol, Kenma.” Keiji stretches his legs out, pushing down his knees in hopes of them cracking. He feels a slight pull, immediately taking them away, in fear of breaking a bone. He hasn’t broken anything - though he did </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>break his nose from Bokuto’s spike - in his entire life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s for gatherings,” Kenma waits for the click on the lock before letting go. “And I don’t drink it, he does.” He thumbs over to Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes.” Kuroo says proudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every time.” Kenma smirks when Kuroo’s smile falls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you do this to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it easy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you talked to Bokuto yet?” Kenma sips the top of the milk foam, letting it rest on his upper lip. It sticks for a bit, sliding down until he’s left to lick it up. Kuroo is tempted to capture the moment, but he already irked him earlier. Who knew offering wine at 3 am would peeve your friends?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Keiji mixes the hot milk to foam, “I haven’t had the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All you have to do is call him,” Kuroo watches the foamed milk smoothly stay on-top of the coffee. “Also, how’d you learn to make this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-Yamaguchi taught me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma smirks, his fingers tapping the sides of the cup. “That’s right, you’re on a first name basis,” he teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji turns away, hiding his face from them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be pretty close,” Kuroo adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel the warmth radiate from his face. “You two are insufferable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of Yamaguchi,” Kuroo lets the foamed milk rest, chuckling as it slides when he talks. “How’s Tsukishima?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what?” Keiji - slightly red - looks back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There has to be more to that. You spent his birthday with them, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma’s eyes scatter around, finding a vase with a cracked edge. “Kuroo, you idiot, did you break my mother’s vase?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, would you look at that!” Kuroo chugs the rest of the hot coffee, not flinching as it steams his insides. “I got work to do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you get back here!” Kenma barely gets up, hearing the front door slam shut. “He didn’t even take his suitcase.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches the entire scene, hardly grasping the quick, fluid motions of Kuroo gracefully, yet quickly leaving the room. He’s sneakier than he thought. How someone can be so smart, and dunce at the same time is astounding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised he’s still alive,” he laughs. “From the looks of it, you kind of have him wrapped around your finger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma is left slightly flustered, gaining back his coolness. “Don’t look into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a sharp breath. “Don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji barely stifled his laugh. “I don’t even want to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Kenma finishes his drink. “It should be obvious at this point. I’m not as oblivious as you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” he pushes the cup forward. “More.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lifts an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Kuroo take his?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he chugged it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While it was hot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It took time to make it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, now please make more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t answer my question,” Kenma looks out the bus window, watching the shopkeepers unlock the doors. “Actually, you avoided it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I said I didn’t have time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did,” he looks back at Keiji, watching his glasses slide down his face as his fingers rapidly scroll down a news article. “You also didn’t tell us why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma leans onto him, looking over the bold letters of terms. The entire article was a review of a manga, one where a picture of Keiji by the bridge was taken as a reference for a scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s you,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji taps on the photo, enlarging it with his thumb and index. “I forgot about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been that busy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Work has been pretty hectic lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes off his glasses, rubbing a spot in the middle of his forehead. The beginning of a headache adds more stress. “I have to go back and help Tenma out again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Kenma feels a little bad for him. Keiji is a hard worker, the wrinkles of his shirts and eyelids dragging down give away how much effort he’s putting in. Keiji gives and gives, never asking for anything in return. That’s why he hopes he gets what he deserves.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please love him back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our stop is almost here,” Keiji nods his head towards the door’s exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Kenma holds onto the corner of Keij’s jacket. “Before you go, I wanted to ask if you, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi would want to have a barbecue with Bokuto and Kuroo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A barbecue?” Keiji was briefly reminded of the last time he had one with them, years ago in high school with the first years. “I’ll ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma nods. “You should come, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he responds, “I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Tadashi sets a plate in front of him, his hands linger on the edge. “You look a bit pale.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Keiji dismisses. A cool hand flies to his forehead, softly pressing onto him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a bit warm,” Tadashi says. “Have you been sleeping well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sort of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” he pulls away, mumbling to himself. His footsteps fade behind Keiji. The echoes of silverware and water hitting the bottom of the sink. Familiar squeaks of the sink’s knobs and water droplets splattering around the dishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s the lemon scent every kitchen smells like after a good wash. He can picture the white walls and floors of the room, the lights slightly yellow. He made a mental note to change the lightbulb when he passed by the electronics store again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?” Tadashi’s voice hardly registers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi doesn’t respond, making his way over. Keiji’s heart beat loudly beating against his chest and echoing into his ears. He gathers energy in his arms to push himself up, feet lazily responding and moving very slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji,” he says, “you need to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” Keiji’s voice cracks, wincing as the words spike through his throat, hurting when it comes out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi sighs, his hands holding Keiji’s arms. The small pull to help him up makes Keiji feel hotter. He’s not sure if his fever was increasing, or the contact of his crush was similar to walking right in the middle of a volcano.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should rest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he admits his loss, his body feeling weaker. The white walls of the kitchen intensify, brightening and obscuring every other color of the room. His eyes hurt, eyeballs pounding in pain. “I think… I need to lay down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuts his eyes, focusing on his breathing. The erratic beats of his heart causes his mind to race against himself, panic being stuffed back into its hole. He goes through his memories, memorizing random cats and birds he sees throughout his day by the window. The small black bird that visits him whenever he’s in the middle of work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei has a bag aside the window, opening it with a hand as the other drops the feed. The bird always picks out the small pieces, leaving the larger ones last, sometimes not even finishing it. Whatever is left, Kei just drops off the window, onto the ground where bigger birds lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why feed that one but not the others?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because he’s lonely.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi?” he calls out, voice hardly being heard over the sound of windchimes from someone’s patio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s special about that black bird Tsukishima feeds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The one by the window?” Tadashi asks, folding the clothes over the other side of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Keiji realizes suddenly. “Am I in your room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no,” he makes a move to sit up, head immediately spinning. The words slowly leave his lips, unfamiliar and foreign. “I’m… sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a big deal, Keiji.” Tadashi makes his way around, pushing him back down gently. “Kei said it was fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsukishima is here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was asleep before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For how long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“6 hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, work!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sets his forearms to his side, a poor attempt of sitting up. Tadashi’s hands linger on his chest, not letting up as he tries to push past it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Saturday.” Tadashi takes his hand off, leaving Keiji stunned and confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s Saturday? Already?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?” he asks himself out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really don’t remember?” Tadashi bites his lip, clearly concerned for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember what?” Did Keiji really fly through the week without ever noticing? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been so busy with work, coming home after 11,” Tadashi explains, folding the laundry and stacking it into 3 piles. The lighter colors were Kei’s. Dark colors were Keiji’s. And pastel ones were Tadashi’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three very different tastes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like their coffees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles, sick and warm, he still smiles through the mild pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess…” he says, “I haven’t been taking care of myself well, have I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi shakes his head. “That’s alright, that's why we’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a deep breath, head drifting away from everything around him. The bright lights behind his eyelids go dark. The light breeze slid under his neck, making the sweat cool. He can hear the chairs from the kitchen scrape against the linoleum floor, dishes being set on the table. There’s a sound of dinner ready, the way the house feels like the last meal of the day before they relax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t tell how many hours have gone by. One minute, he hears the mutters and hushed voices. The next he wakes up behind closed eyes and hears tapping noises of the computer on the other side of the apartment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, are you awake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji hears before he’s fully awake. His eyelids glued shut, body aching from who knows what he’s done the day before. It feels like he’s been asleep for weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh…” he mumbles. His eyes hardly crack open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a yes.” The footsteps of the voice leave, the door closing gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shuts his eyes, trying to breathe in through a stuffy nose. Something is vibrating on the bedside table to his left. He lifts an arm, his elbow cracking and aching as his fingers lazily spread to find the source. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something cold on the side of his pinky makes him sigh out. The coolness feels nice. The object starts vibrating again. He feels around the object, pinky wrapping the side and finally getting a better grip of it. The brightness of the window makes it painful looking at the phone in his hand. He made sure the phone was actually his, a bit afraid of accidentally snooping onto someone else’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Are you coming?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kenma:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Kuroo asked if you can bring some yakiniku sauce. He forgot to make it.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Guilt slaps across his face. “I forgot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgot what?” Tadashi comes in with a small tray. Keiji’s favorite mug - the same white mug aside from Kei’s - filled with delicious tea. “Did you forget you had plans today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Barbecue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Kei got invited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tadashi sets the tray down on the unoccupied bedside table. “He told them you were sick and had better things to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sat up comfortably, the pillow behind him making it easier on his bones. He probably sounds like a 40 year old with the way he’s thinking, but that’s the least of his problems. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I still need to talk to Bokuto.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept pushing the date, always making empty promises to himself that he’d do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look worried,” Kei’s head pops out from behind the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m taking the bed,” he immediately apologizes, feeling guilty for taking the only bed for the only couple in the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Kei shrugs. “Tadashi says there’s a small draft coming from the living room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have still slept on the couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About that…” Kei steps in the room. “We don’t have one anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji starts to panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Am I getting kicked out? Is this it? Did me getting sick finally tugged the last string?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s been wanting a new one since you started living with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he sighs out. Immediate relief sets on his shoulders. “I thought you guys were kicking me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Kei asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Keiji looks into the cup. A small puddle at the bottom reflects his face, staring back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last time I laid on it, my back felt tense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Keiji chuckles. “You get used to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For someone like you,” Kei shudders. “Still not normal to sleep on that every night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shrugs. “Should I sleep on the office floor from now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kei shakes his head. “We’re getting a new one today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need help?” Keiji drinks the rest of the tea, pulling the blanket aside. His warm skin meets the cool air, the nice exposure makes his body tingle with delight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, you stay in bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart slams its breaks, flying out the car window and straight into his hands. He sends silent prayers to whoever is watching him for being in bed. His knees would have wobbled and dropped onto the ground at the sound of his name leaving the blonde’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be back,” Kei reassures him, his eyes bore into Keiji’s skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad, even if he is sleeping on </span>
  <em>
    <span>their </span>
  </em>
  <span>bed.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma watches his friend’s nails drag against the metal table. There was a bit of disappointment in the action. He could lecture him, but that wasn’t necessary. Keiji getting sick was out of their control, that is, if Keiji wasn’t taking care of himself properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma oscillated his thoughts, patiently listing his pros and cons. Keiji isn’t dumb, maybe oblivious, but not dumb. Sometimes hard workers don’t realize how much stress they’ve been putting on themselves; especially if they’ve worked themselves to the ground in hopes of seeking positive feedback from a parental figure and not actually receiving it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s probably hitting home to a lot of people.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s seen it through other people, though their actions all differ, the hidden emotion is still buried underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think they’ll see you more if you worked hard?” Kenma passively says while sketching random circles on a napkin. The pen was already drying out, might as well waste it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Keiji squints his eyes, attempting to focus on the postboard behind Kenma. Flyers and posters, fanart of the cafe’s mascot and a giant coffee stirrer. Keiji used to be indifferent towards it, but recently it’s been making him kind of happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cartoons and anime have no age restriction, Keiji. You can still enjoy it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That goes for manga, too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi’s voice still lingers in his head. A small buzz from the light behind him snaps him back to the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, did you say something?” he clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve always been a hard worker, but the last time you did this, you lived alone,” Kenma states. The pen in his hand has finally stopped working, every drop of ink was pushed out. “What’s the reason behind it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does there have to be one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he drops the pen beside the napkin. Circles of different sizes filled one side, but three of the same size stuck out the most. Three perfectly drawn circles in the middle of the paper. “I was just wondering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so,” Keiji drones, his mind fading away back to the postboard. “Did it seem like there’s one?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should you really be asking me that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wishes he swallowed his words. He should have known better. Hell, he should know himself better than anyone else, yet it always seemed like someone was figuring things out for him first. It wasn’t a race, it shouldn’t be, but it still felt like one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he apologizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be,” Kenma mutters. “You don’t intend to be oblivious. You just need to take yourself more into consideration.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I really have been lacking in the self-care department,” Keiji jokes. “Maybe I want to be seen, maybe not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma frowns. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything I do, it doesn’t feel like I’m doing enough,” Keiji says, his eyes falling down on a straight line. He sort of wishes he can burn holes with his stare, maybe then he’d have a reason to get up and leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Running away again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m running away, aren’t I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma doesn’t answer. The way he asked made it seem like it wasn’t directed at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sighs. “Why am I a disaster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re gay,” Kenma snickers, drops of coffee fly out the top of his cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at him, cheeks flushing red. He groans out, head falling in between his hands. If there’s ever a moment where he wished he faded from existence, it would never compare to how badly he wished it now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t forget to call Bokuto,” Kenma pleads. He’s tired of listening to Bokuto’s complaints over the phone and whenever he dropped by Kuroo’s apartment. There’s no need to explain why Kenma was over often. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Keiji was already walking away. He hadn’t meant to brush it aside, he swears he’s getting there. Centimeter by centimeter at most, but he’ll get to it. At least, that’s what he swears himself every night, hoping to lessen the weighing guilt that clings to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess I could…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out his phone, hand slowly pressing down the numbers. His mind was racing through his thoughts, unsure whether to pretend like nothing ever happened or apologize for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>C’mon, get a grip. Bokuto isn’t like that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s had a few ups and downs, if there’s one thing those events had in common, it was the amount of endless support Bokuto had for him. There was never a second or a will of doubt between their friendship. Bokuto was the waterfall, the cool drop of water, the size of a dime, splashed onto the back of his palm. It wobbles as he keeps still, tilting it too far on one side and falling onto the wet ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though his lower body is completely drenched, he can still feel the warmth Bokuto’s heart left him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s your best friend, for crying out loud.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Bokuto answers the call he forgot he made. The voice throws him off, phone merely slipping out of his loose grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” he says while looking around, dark and neon lights were left on the street. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, I’m on the phone with the person I’ve been avoiding AND I’m lost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto,” he bites his tongue immediately,  the ‘san’ part almost spills out of habit. “I was wondering if you had plans for lunch this week?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m free tomorrow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dang it, that’s soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Keiji curses to himself for not thinking thoroughly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I like to live on the edge.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can have ramen with Kuroo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On second thought, I fear for my life now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even better,” he laughs. Maybe Keiji can risk his sanity for a bit more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you called, Akaashi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widen, throat clenching as a reflex. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s breathing was calm, abnormal for an energetic man like him, but still peaceful and fitting. “I’ll wait for as long as you need me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was on the verge of tears. “Next time I’ll give a warning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto laughs. “As long as I know you’re alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Keiji wished he prepared for was the surreal amount of questions tossed at him every minute Kuroo and Bokuto become more and more silly. He mistook them being loud and rambunctious for being drunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All it took was a memory from when he first encountered them that it’s all just them being themselves. Keiji wouldn’t have it any other way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Agaashi, any hot girls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe there are some regrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi, do you have a boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been so busy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should drink soju!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has many regrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath, shuddering at the memory of the last time the three of them were together. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, maybe they all went too far with what they said - even to saying he didn’t miss them directly to Bokuto - but he’s glad they’ll have many more good memories to make up for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi,” Kuroo clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re here with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wanted to question him, but Kuroo’s hand flew up to stop him. So he stays silent, giving him the few minutes he needed to gather himself before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto and I have been hanging out together,” he continues, “but it feels wrong without you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every word tugs at Keiji, his heart filling with more love he intended to take in. He was always being torn to shreds from the discord his mind screamed at him every night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It feels like a part of us is missing,” Bokuto finishes off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opens his mouth. “Is this really you two talking or are you already drunk from one sip?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi!” Kuroo puffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji laughs. Bokuto and Kuroo start to bicker, daring each other to take shots after shots, until Keiji steps in and decides he’ll pour it for them instead. The last thing he wanted to do was let them go out of control and lose them at some alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t meant to shift the conversation, in fact, he was close to letting a few tears slide. But he’s done enough crying for some time, all he wanted was to enjoy the atmosphere of his chaotic best friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a way, he’s rather glad they could patch things up the way they always do. In a somewhat insincere yet heartfelt way. It was a very Kuroo-and-Bokuto thing to do this. He was ever-so grateful for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone at his side vibrates.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>you need a ride back?</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles down, rereading the message, feeling the care and love of a single question in a text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up, slightly terrified Kuroo and Bokuto broke something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that look,” Kuroo points a finger at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lifts a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re in love…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s even worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-” Keiji scrambles his half-focused mind, still riding off the high from Tadashi checking in on him. Can anyone blame him? He just got a message from the sweetest angel he’s ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way!” Bokuto shakes his head. “He must have found a cool book.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji is semi-impressed Bokuto remembered he likes to read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Kuroo waves a hand at him, shaking his idea off. “I think you’re oblivious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shrugs, nodding a bit. He can definitely agree with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Bokuto tries to speak over the other. Arguing with anyone is futile unless it’s about motivation or volleyball. But sometimes he can surprise you with something you never expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Keiji was stunned Bokuto knew so much about jellyfish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only you had the same amount of brain cells you composed in that essay about jellyfish.” Kuroo starts laughing at Keiji’s jab. The words spoke themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agaashi!” Bokuto whines, taking a shot. “I thought you were special!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto, the only special thing here is your skills in spitting paper out of a straw the farthest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Keiji can think about the entire afternoon was how lucky he was to have friends like them.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Keiji falls on the sofa, head slightly throbbing. He only had a few shots and already his body feels slack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you drunk?” Kei asks from the kitchen, sipping on his coffee. His laptop sat open in front of him, an empty document with a blinking cursor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but at least my head isn’t as empty as yours.” Keiji peeks over the couch, hardly missing the small pout Kei wore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen here-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji snickers. “Are you an old man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re older than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By a year,” Keiji puts up a finger. “Not much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei,” Tadashi comes into the living room. “finish your work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He started it,” Kei grumbled, finishing his cup before cracking his knuckles. It was a thing he did before facing the epitome of doom. “I don’t see why I have to finish this </span>
  <em>
    <span>today</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know why, Kei.” Tadashi seats himself besides Keiji, giggling as Keiji bounces. “And what about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go visit Tenma,” he looks at the ceiling, silently praying his thanks it wasn’t the ugly popcorn ceiling like his old apartment. The texture was uncomfortable to stare at. He swore he could feel it on his hands, sandpaper-like scraping along his insides. Yuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The boss really likes it, so he needs me to go and check up on him. You know what Tenma is like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kind of,” Tadashi crosses his legs, knowing Kei is too busy to reprimand him for sitting like that. “Is he always in his work like you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not workaholics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re both very invested, but it’s admirable.” Tadashi adds in, “And a bit motivational.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Keiji wasn’t buying it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never had people work hard in your life where they’re too busy to spend time with their kids?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looked at him. “Are you saying I’m not spending enough time here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Kei cuts in. “You’re here, but not really </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart twinges. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi shakes his hands, dismissing the unsaid around, hoping to dissolve it. “It’s alright, we know you’re busy. We miss-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>misses you,” Kei speaks over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi squints his eyes over Keiji’s shoulder. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We </span>
  </em>
  <span>miss you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks back to Kei typing away on his laptop. He looked to his side, Tadashi’s eyes wavered slightly. “What do you want to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without missing a beat, Tadashi hops up. He runs right back to his room, leaving Keiji stunned and worried he may have said something wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This!” Tadashi’s voice echoes from the hall, coming back with a set of dvds. A whole collection of them, the same series’ title on the sides of the box. “Anime marathon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck sleeping tonight,” Kei mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re joining us, Kei.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei only sighs, pushing up his glasses. His hand reaches out for the cup, trying to take a sip, only realizing it’s empty. “Dang it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiles. He hasn’t seen anime in awhile, always too busy to even fully enjoy the manga he edits. “Which one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hunter x Hunter,” Tadashi excitedly responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many seasons?” Kei asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” he groans. “Please tell me we’re not watching them all for 4 days straight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not!” Tadashi scowls, though he wouldn’t mind it. He knew everyone had work and practice. “But we are watching a lot of them tonight before we’re back to the same work schedule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t like the small hint of tone in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He really misses us. Have we been that busy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost wants to smack himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His birthday is coming up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The fear of gift searching has started to rumble. He could go to Tenma’s and find something around the area. Or he could try to order something online, but secretly buying a gift under the same house isn’t as easy as it seems. Especially if the package will arrive when he’s at home. How could he hide a box? He sleeps in the living room. All his stuff is in a small closet by a corner they bought for him when he first moved in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s hardly space for a surprise gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs start to shake, nervously shifting around for a comfortable spot. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something sharp in his sweatpants. He takes it out, pulling out an ivory card with a lovely font of a potter. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if she can help.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not Keiji to trust a stranger, but she wasn’t exactly one when they had spent a good afternoon together talking about love. He had promised to come back. The atmosphere she possessed, making you feel like you drank a hot drink on a rainy day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She strangely felt familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really enjoyed spending time with her. She never judged him for being a bit uptight on his love life. She simply laughed it off, reminiscing her college days of falling in and out of love.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come back to visit.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s decided. He’d go back. Maybe he’ll throw his feelings out, confess his undying - slightly embarrassing - love for two men. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?” Tadashi plops beside him, the dvd set sits on the coffee table. “You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me we’ve lost him already,” Kei jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wish.” Keiji’s legs stop shaking. “Let’s have the marathon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Tadashi pumps a fist. “Told you he’d be on my side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair, anyone would be on your side.” Kei grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lets the troubling thoughts dissolve.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll find something… eventually.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hate this,” Keiji complains, throwing down the stack of papers on the desk. “I hate this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that,” Kei swings his cup around, ice clacking on the sides, “three times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agh,” Keiji’s face meets the middle of his palms. “Is this what burnout feels like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” Kei drones. “Are you going to sit around and grumble all day or are you coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where am I going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei rolls his eyes, tossing a jacket from his shoulder to Keiji’s lap. “Hurry up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you taking me on a date?” Keiji wished he could bite his tongue off. Where did have time to build this sort of confidence and unleash it to the hottest blonde he’s ever met? He could cry a fountain if Kei didn’t respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t be if you take too long,” Kei huffed, twirling on his heels and walking out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji scrambled out of his chair, narrowingly missing its legs from falling face first. “Hold on!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was only so much nature one can take before you realize some plants seem like you’re living in some fairy tale. The entire garden was swimming in a sea of a yellow ocean made of leaves. If you had told Keiji that Ginkgo Trees can grow over 1,400 years and be as tall as a giant, he’d have brought a camera and cried over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This can’t be real,” he could barely breathe out the words. Lost, enraptured, completely consumed by the beauty of something he never knew he needed to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I’d showed you one,” Kei responded, half smirking over Keiji’s loss of words. “Still surprised?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Keiji took a step forward, his mouth drying the closer he got to the tree. “Can I touch it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei laughs. Nothing rude, just pure amazement over this entire scenario. “Duh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands hover over the bark. Eyes following every groove and crack the bark bared, his index finger barely comes into contact. It’s not something new, he’s put his hand on a tree before. Whenever he had to tie his shoes and lean on it, or when he was a child, pretending to climb the forests with imaginary creatures. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every scenario in his head never prepared him for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the fascination of being alive at the same time of something so ancient-like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how old is this tree?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei steps closer. “1,423 years old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji gulps. “Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.” Kei’s shoulders sag, his back releases the stiffness he was unaware he was keeping in. He was glad - strangely - that someone else besides Tadashi could admire something like this. Especially when this part of the park was his favorite “I need alone time” space. Tadashi always knew where to find him, always finding him under the same spot beneath the tree. Hiding from the moonlight and stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I knew about this place sooner,” Keiji admits, looking up. The fan-like leaves were a lovely color of yellow. The leaves around him were like autumn’s tears, the very embodiment of his favorite season: fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe you like it because your favorite people have birthdays in the fall. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The leaves-” he cuts himself off, daring to touch the edges of a leaf barely hanging on the branch. The yellow fan with slight brown edges, indicating it’s coming to an age where it leaves and joins the others. “This one was left behind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei steps closer, his jacket softly rubs Keiji’s, leaving the small vibration coursing through his entire arm. It makes it hotter, almost like his limb might fall off from the sudden contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Kei says, “but it’ll catch up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how do you know that?” Keiji looks at him, unaware of his eyes capturing the warm essence of the autumn afternoon. “Are you a leaf whisperer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei looks at him, the small corner of his lip curling. “Give it time.” He looks back and points, the leaf wobbling in the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>snap</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a place for everyone,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to eat here?” Keiji is in awe with the lighting. The reflections of the ceiling lights make the paintings slightly orange. If he had looked away a second earlier, he wouldn’t have noticed the paintings were relatively new, thinking they were almost old just from the illusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Kei sits across from him, one leg over the other underneath the table. “It’s not like you’ll disrupt the peace like </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji chuckles, watching Kei’s body rack with shudders. “I think bringing them would be sort of interesting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei frowns, but no more than a second. “Oh sure,” he sighs, “let them turn the place into a barn and drink milk out of barrels instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think…” Keiji stops, pausing to picture them doing unspeakable things. “Yeah, they would,” he agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here’s your order,” the waitress passes the plates from the large tray. “If you need anything else, call for ‘Emma’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks down at the food, slightly unnerved how lavish it looked for a place that’s cozy and folksy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about the price,” Kei reaches over to take a sip of tea. “God, you and Tadashi are alike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smirks. “I can’t help it, he’s influencing me to save more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei scoffs, enjoying the silent company. One that doesn’t prod into his work or life. It’s rare to have a connection of sorts with someone you never thought of. Well, he knew he’d get along well with him, he just wasn’t expecting to get along </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>well. “So are you visiting Tenma this weekend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nods, chewing with his mouth closed. Kei waits patiently for Keiji to free his mouth. “He needs some help editing and I can take the project back to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it going to get published right after?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “Not yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss checks to see if the manga is good enough to sign a contract with the artist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean, you don’t just publish everything that’s handed to you?” Kei is surprised, he’s only read magazines and literature books, always having less and less time to indulge in the fictional world. Of course, he could have made room for it and let his grades slip a bit, but he was too uptight with himself to ever let loose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Keiji continues, “they get a contract for serialized stories - one chapter per issue - and continue until they either end or decline in popularity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if they don’t do well, they just get bumped off?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Kei is astonished at how adamant Keiji was. He spoke like he was talking to a client. Kei wanted to press on, slowly captivated by the conversation. “So if he does get a contract, where do you come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an editor. I work along with a team - usually I do unless I go on ‘vacation’ for another couple of months - to ensure the quality level of the art doesn’t drop significantly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you guys are like the messengers between the artist and magazine, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nodded. “Bingo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s kind of interesting,” Kei admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Keiji looks even more astonished. “How so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei only shrugs, graciously picking up a piece of his food and holding up to his lips. “I guess I never gave your work much thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Manga isn’t your thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, but after Tadashi has been making us watch that freakin’ anime…” he trails off, pouting. “Now I can’t get it out of my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji holds in his gasp. “Are you saying-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” Kei groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> of what happens after?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” he smacks the sides of his head with both hands. “Why do we live together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji snickers behind his hand. “Oh, this is great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Kei manages to stab through his tofu out of embarrassment. “Eat your damn food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tenma,” Keiji could hardly catch his breath. “Please tell me you’ve got everything you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma doesn’t look back at him, nodding his head and studying the scenery before him. It’s nothing romantic in the slightest, but it apparently has something to do with the main plot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost done,” he disregards Keiji with a slight wave of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji internally sighs, not wanting to even breathe in his direction. Just one movement of imbalance and he can instantly throw the other off their high-ride of inspiration. The waves of creativity massively hit Tenma, not wanting to peel his eyes away from whatever was playing in his head, he had sent Keiji on a small goose chase to gather his things back and forth. From a different perspective, it was entertaining. From Keiji’s, it was depleting years of his life span.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Annnd done!” Tenma announces.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keiji screams in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now to draw this from the other side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...C’MON!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tenma, I think we should really get going.” he tries to push the schedule up, he’s been trying for the past few hours. He hates rushing through work, but work demands the first volume before giving Tenma a chance. It’s his time to shine and debut as a new upcoming manga artist, except the pace he works at is agonizingly slow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It leaves you wanting to claw your head off while feeling like you’re being forced to bike a unicycle on a breakable thread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a second,” Tenma calls out before running to the otherside of the alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean an hour?” Keiji mutters. His head never stopped pulsing painful stabs from his right side. He sends a silent prayer to whoever is listening up there, to get him out and finally relax in the sun. Maybe enjoy some good food before consuming microwavable food that even Kei can’t mess up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, nevermind, it’s not working for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, THANK you whoever you are. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, now let’s get lunch,” he sits up, back cracking in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never took you to be a foodie, Akaashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bit his tongue. He likes Tenma, they have a evolving, strange friendship - much to his experience with certain somebodies, he’s used to it - but sometimes it makes him think he’ll go bald in an instant. “It’s been a long day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Tenma casually says, “we have to visit the other side of town in.. 20 minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Keiji’s soul might as well leave his entire body at that moment. How anyone will keep up in the editing team, he wishes them luck ahead of time. “I don’t know how you’ll manage with a whole team when you do things unpremeditated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the fun with organization?” Tenma shoots back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Keiji tiredly laughs, “you’re right.” Years of friendship with spontaneous people really prepared him for this, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you visiting her again?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he feels a knot around his neck. “I need gift ideas for someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A special someone?” Tenma grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kind of?” Keiji fails to keep it together, as if he had it together in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this person like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like the smell of citrus that lingers once you cut into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah,” Tenma stops walking. “I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji freezes, cheeks blazing and back sweating. “Let’s go get food, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Tenma holds him back, hand settling on his shoulder. “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to talk about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma didn’t answer, his stomach coming back for revenge. “You’re right, but once work is over, we will get back to this topic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you just gonna laugh at my misery?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tenma chuckles. “I think it’s a nice side of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems to be a common theme for people to be interested in his emotions of being in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure my love life is of any interest?” Keiji still asks, knowing the answer already. The small shop had a narrow space, but the food was delicious. If Kei was here, he’d struggle sitting comfortably. It’s a silly thought that enters his head, a mini version of Kei complaining as they sit under a nice light over dinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma wastes no time, spinning the pen in his hand. “Tell me everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll tell you some things, but not everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Keiji clears his throat. “Well, he’s uh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mentioned citrus earlier,” Tenma scribbles down. “Why citrus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sat up earnestly, his heart pounding excitedly and fingers tapping on the wooden table. “We went shopping for furniture and ended up thinking of scattering plants around the apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he into gardening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lifts a hand, tapping a finger on the tip of his chin. “No, I only suggested plants because-” he cuts himself off. He couldn’t exactly mention his other crush and how his mother had a beautiful garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a friend,” he says carefully, “his mother has a garden.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tenma looks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can feel the childhood in it, some plants have been replanted. But others have been there for years. There’s something nostalgic about it, kind of like visiting your grandparents after another generation is born.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So homely and familiar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he can feel something on his skin crawl, whether it was shivers or nervousness, he couldn’t tell. It was a bittersweet thought that took over. “My friend is actually dating him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Tenma sets down the book and notebook. “It must’ve hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It still does,” Keiji says bitterly. He could never come to think of Kei and Tadashi with any form of maliciousness. “But I love them both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat, no form of crying will escape his body tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, not tonight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. I want them to be happy, and if I’m not part of that equation, then so be it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The food arrives on time, silently thanking the chef, Keiji looks down at his plate. He could have sworn it smelled and looked delicious, but looking at it now, it felt off. It could be him getting sick, maybe he was anxious about something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi,” Tenma hasn’t made a move on his food. “I’m not going to force you to open up to me, not even in the next decade working together, but you should be fair to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ice in the water floats around, straws unbent at the tip, food untouched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it hurts that much, do something for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji didn’t want to hear it any longer. He wanted to drop into the floor, swallowed by the dark shadows that threaten to claw at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should tell them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shadows rapidly disperse, screaming and screeching in pain, lingering at the corners of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not in a million years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches the potter’s hands shape the bowl, precise and fluid motions left him gasping. She smiled wider with every little audible reaction he made. “It’s so fascinating how you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” her voice a bit hoarse, “it takes years of practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Years?” Keiji gulps, his warm still hot from the tea. “I would expect months, but years?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs along with the wind chimes ringing outside. “It’s like falling in love, don’t you think?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are perfectly shaped plates and cups along the shelf behind her, all ready to be painted into wonderful pieces to be a part of someone’s kitchen. Keiji has looked around the same studio multiple times since he came in, sitting across from her. He’s still amazed every time he takes in the view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you painting today?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gentle hands make the last round before stopping the machine. “I have yet to think of what to paint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are they a collection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head gently, letting her recent piece dry. “Any ideas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi pops into his head. He can feel the 1heat at the back of his neck, feeling too hot, he takes off his scarf. “Uh,” his voice cracks, wincing as he tries to think of something else. “Maybe an animal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Animals are nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re all cute to think about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kei.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He physically shakes his head, fists curling in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop. Please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a bird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mental sight of Kei and Tadashi waiting for him at the table fills his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels bitter, heart scrunching and crumpling, tossed into a bin. It’s like eating sour candy and spitting it right out. There’ll never be a sweet point where the suffering was worth the ending.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’ll never be an ending.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a dog?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Want to come watch Kei practice?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Won’t he be mad?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’ll act like it, but he likes you. He won’t mind.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps a cat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A frog.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at him curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A frog,” he nods, tears at the brim, just one second away from spilling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A frog,” she repeats, smiling. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches her disappear, listening to the water run was the last thing he should have done. The tears filling his vision, blurring everything into dark and white blobs. Memories flood his imagination, feeding the spiteful vein in his heart, constantly twinging in a burdening pain that makes you want to curl into a ball and cry for hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he promises himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, not here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like some more tea?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wipes his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Yes, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t ask any more questions. If she looks at his face, the red parts aren’t pointed out. All she can see is the saddened heart he buries in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I add something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a green frog on the front of the cup, contrasting the bright blue background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes a shallow breath. “Clouds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns the cup around, pausing to think. “That sounds great.” Her hands move, steady and calm, soft when drawing the puffy clouds. She giggles to herself. “Should I give him a crown?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she turned the cup around, he couldn’t help the small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely,” he responds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Prince Frog needs a home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji didn’t see the message in her tone. His eyes finally meeting her after the silence that followed, he could feel his heart twist and ache. “Me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods, eyes crinkling with her bright smile. “You have someone in mind, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t lie. “Yeah…” he could hardly say any more. “But really, it’s fine. I need to find a gift for his birthday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this cup remind you of him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you should take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji,” she warns him. “I can see the pain in your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He freezes under her gaze. “P...ain?” he spat out. “I’m not in pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes soften, wavering in the light. “Do you hate the one you love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never,” he says immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you hate the one that he loves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Wh-” he cuts himself off, closing his mouth hard. Teeth clacked, sending small waves of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She puts the cup down, looking at the bottom, barely recognizing her reflection inside. “Do you feel angry at them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” she nods. “Have you been selfish, Keiji?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji wants to shake his head, but he nods instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not selfish to fall in love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not selfish to fall in love with them both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up, eyes threatening to send small streams down his face. They burn, scream in agony, salty waters raging at the dam. “How did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiles, looking up at him. “The last cup was someone else, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t hold it in, love, let yourself be selfish and show it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a numbing sensation in the back of his head. He can’t hear the train, the people talking across the aisle, or the music playing from his earbuds. They fell at the beginning of the ride, not feeling like putting them back on. All he can do is watch the red, yellow, and dying leaves swipe across the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels small and empty, nothing but a sour note that plays from a sweet melody he could have sworn was the sound of love. It cuts in, ruining the song, always inserting its harsh, rigid sound during the richest parts of the song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart shrivels and blooms at every second. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The song pauses.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Kei won’t tell me what’s happening this weekend :(</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He bites his lip, forcing himself to swallow the spit he held on. Not realizing he wasn’t even breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>im sure it’ll be alright</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Another message.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Don’t tell Tadashi anything. I’m planning a picnic date and you’re NOT gonna give into his peer pressuring methods.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>that only happened once...twice...it’s hard!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He pretends to laugh inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>:( tell me!!</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>you’re coming too. don’t think about sitting it out.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>...wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>it’s a picnic date… and you want me</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t get to finish the text.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>you’re not a third-wheel so don’t pull that excuse. you’re coming. that’s final.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t. Hurt me, tell me you hate me. Tell me you despise me. Kick me out. Leave me alone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>...okay. </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leave me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>are you okay?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>what makes you say that?</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just leave me to be alone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Kei says he’s worried about the weird text you sent… </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...he could tell just from one word?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shuts his phone off, angrily tapping it against his knee. It’s a bit painful, but he focuses outside the window again. The leaves putter against the glass, the metal wheels grinding on metal rails. He can hear bits and pieces of someone’s personal conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to close his eyes. Heart thumping erratically. Everything is swirling in his head, tornadoes approaching the horizons of what’s left. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to throw his phone away, toss to the next aisle even. Heart pounding in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzzt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“For crying out loud,” he warbles, eyes burning from the silent, angry tears shed the night before. “What the…” </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Tsukishima:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>You might think a date is between two people, but it’s not in this case. Like it or not, you’re a part of this family and it’d mean a lot to Tadashi if you came to celebrate. You know what it’s like to not have a close relationship with blood-family, but that doesn’t matter, we don’t need to be related by blood… So don’t argue or overthink. We need you, Keiji.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>KEIJI!! Don’t let your thoughts consume your soul, you can’t leave me to suffer with Kei by myself &lt;/3 who will come to my aid when he IS the dragon in the story?? YOU KNOW HE LIKES REPTILES MORE THAN DOGS</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen blurs. He wipes his sleeve across his face, sniffing twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Keiji:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>sorry, i got distracted. i’m coming home soon.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tadashi:</b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>♥</b>
</p><p>
  <b>[Change Tsukishima to Kei?] Y/N</b>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb has never tapped harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>[Y]/N</b>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can be selfish and enjoy this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No… I shouldn’t. That’s wrong.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NO shut up, let me have this, please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He smacks his cheeks hard, yelping. “Ow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you do that?” Kei snorts, his birthday cup in hand. Keiji hasn’t seen him without it. “What negative idea have you given the space to fill your head now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji scoffs, but throws in the underlying worry. “What if he hates my gift?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei raises an eyebrow. “It’s a frog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a frog!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji,” Kei clears his throat, never in a million years would he be caught saying someone else’s given name aside from the three people that know him. “God that felt weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it again,” Keiji teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” his cheeks felt hot. “Tadashi likes anything, and if it’s handmade, coming from the heart, or whatever - he’ll love it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji rolls his eyes, his head falling in between his arms. Forehead still came into contact with the table. “Ow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you stop that? It’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cheesy and weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi,” Kei sets down the cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no! Go back to Keiji!” he pleads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not until you stop being such a worrywart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s in my blood, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kei</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The word lingers on his tongue, almost like he’s speaking a different language. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei looks at him, a small, gentle smile in his eyes before turning to the usual bored expression. “Well, that’s a shame. Time to find someone else to replace the hole in our hearts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bu-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never said it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sits up, glaring. “One day, Kei, one day. You will admit you like having me around, in person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei sticks his tongue out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Behave!” Tadashi snaps, causing the other two to jump in their seats. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything okay?” Keiji asks, ignoring Kei slapping his forehead. Normally, you let anyone in the house wait out their anger. Occasionally, the anger dissipates, long forgotten. This time, Tadashi’s back cracked as he tried to force himself to relax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just stressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From?” Keiji slightly grunts from the kick on his ankle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working late tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re what?” This time, Kei is the one to ask. “Tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi doesn’t bother making the coffee the usual. He dumps the black liquid and drowns it. Keiji and Kei look over, lip biting and eyebrows scrunched as a form of communication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we have plans,” Keiji hopes it lightens the mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Tadashi says unapologetically, “I’ll have to take a rain check.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tadashi,” Kei’s voice drops to a small voice. “It’s your birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, holding back a strained, frustrated groan. “We can celebrate tomorrow.” He leaves the house, not looking back or saying goodbye. Leaving the apartment tense enough for Keiji and Kei stiff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re still celebrating right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Duh,” Kei takes out his phone. “Does a picnic at 11 pm sound weird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at him, a smile creeping up to his face. “That sounds fun as hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not everyday someone celebrates their birthday in the moonlight - unless you're alone in your moon at the hour to be away from the entire world. Keiji takes in a deep breath, the smell of dead leaves is soon taken over by the cold biting at the tip of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei scrolls on his phone. “You should have brought a jacket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop hogging the blanket,” Keiji sits back down, regretting the few seconds he shaved off his life just to stretch. “What time is he coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him to come by the park as soon as he got off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looked around, the picnic blanket was nothing but Kei’s baby blanket and plastic bags full of junk food and onigiri. He offered to unpack everything, but after seeing one ant crawl on his arm, he decided to wait and left the bags tied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“5 minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” he looks to his left. There’s a space between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said 5 minutes,” Kei elaborates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nods, looking at the cloudy sky. “That’s good.” He tries cloud-watching, unsure if every one of them looks like an animal or a heap of literal clouds. The years of editing manga did nothing to his creativity when it came to clouds. He’ll never understand how any of them can look like anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It has to be coincidence they see things, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen a frog shaped cloud before?” Keiji doesn't know why his mouth said frog without a second thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei stops, looking up. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see shapes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Kei puts his phone down. “They look like clouds, they’re the shape of clouds. What other shape would they have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shakes his head, pulling the blanket closer. “That’s the thing, they’re clouds but that’s all they look like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?” Kei is clearly confused, but he waits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do others see shapes of animals or dragons?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this like a crisis or like ‘why is the sky blue’ sort of question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, neither.” Keiji sighs. “I just don’t understand how they can be shaped like anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei looks back up, watching the cloud move across the sky. Finally revealing the moon, he understands the frustration, knowing there’s something more to it. “Why do people fall in love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks over immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It just happens,” Kei leans back on his hands, watching the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji doesn’t say anything. He relishes the softness in Kei’s voice, the eyes showing endearment to the moon and stars above. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look over, Tadashi slightly panting and shivering in the cold. Kei pats the space in between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you,” Keiji straightens out the blanket, allowing a shared amount between the three of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei presses a soft kiss on Tadashi’s palm. “For you. Happy birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opens his mouth to repeat after him, abruptly stopping when a pair of lips warms his entire right side of his face. He freezes, unable to process anything but the word: </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi has already given Kei his own kiss on the cheek, thanking them and smiling, holding both of their hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thanks every single deity above for not standing up, he would’ve turned into a glob of honey. He’s filled with sweet, gooey warmth. “Happy birthday,” he says, strangling his own throat from coming out like he’s croaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei snickers behind his other hand. “You don’t have to spoil his gift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ass!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi curiously glances side to side, laughing as they continue to throw half-insults. “I have gifts, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei shrugs, two plain bags handed over straight onto Tadashi’s lap. “For you”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww,” Tadashi coos, “you guys didn’t have to.” He frees his hand, too scared to tear them open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open them,” Keiji urges, excited and nervous. He wants to see his smile, hear him laugh and be filled with the relief he deserved from a hard day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi’s ‘awes’ and stifled cry of joy when the cup is revealed replays in Keiji’s head. He stores it, replaying it over and over for safekeeping. He sweats nervously when the bag was opened, all for the wind to cool him off and laugh along. He’s even excited for Kei’s gift, having no clue what the other had in mind. He’s never seen him give gifts, nonetheless buy them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Tadashi’s hands pull away, covering his mouth. “A necklace?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s brain asks himself over and over. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Has he worn jewelry?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei clears his throat, covering up how hesitant he was with the gift. “It’s an infinity heart,” he takes the necklace out of the bag. “It stands for… things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah we get that, but what?” Tadashi giggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Infinite love,” he offers to help put it on. Tadashi turns his back to him, waiting, giggling more when Kei’s hand accidentally tickles him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s lovely,” he thanks him, a finger pushing the heart, watching it swing back to the middle of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji tilts his head. Infinite love? He makes a tab, one he’ll most likely forget thanks to Tadashi’s angelic laughter. “Wow, never knew you were this cheesy.” he says, smiling when Tadashi laughs at the statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei scowls, swiftly turning around. “Yours was cheesier!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna bet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you want to go, buddy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi continues to laugh, untying every bag to pass out the goods inside. His heart is swollen, full of appreciation and love. He can feel it take a toll, quietly sobbing as the heart wants what’s forbidden.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We talked about this, Tadashi.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not fair!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s selfish of us.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It hurts.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to eat?” he offers, patching the holes and memories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>11:10 pm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly takes a drink and a bag of something savory, not really caring for what his hands first touched. When he looks back at the time, he’s greeted by the lovely numbers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>11:11 pm.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me have this, just this once. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, aren't you selfish...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>what up demons? it's me, a new leopika stan. im so far deep into the ship, i almost wrote a fic for them. <br/>genshin impact? razor and chongyun have me sprawled on the floor crying about them. at first i wanted them cause VA's are the same as tsukishima and yamaguchi, but now that i know more about them...i ship them just bc their personalities are so...unique and the angst they share when looking for answers they'll never find, they can bond like that. </p><p>i doubt my own writing when i want to expand to other fandoms, so im very thankful for everyone who enjoys it. i do it for myself when i need a break from job applications or stressed and in need of an escape. your support gives me endless fuel of motivation. thank you.</p><p>anywho, enjoy the rest of the day. </p><p>also shout to noctua for hyping me up while i was down in bedrest. sometimes i need a small push to continue writing. take care of yourselves and HYDRATE. i cannot stress that enough.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. ristretto</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>don't get too attached. you never know when things will leave you the next day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keiji’s entire back covered in goosebumps disappeared when hot water met skin. The satisfaction of water droplets hitting against him made him sigh out loud. Relief literally washed over him, relishing every grateful second. Accessible hot water should never be taken for granted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft tap from the door makes him almost slip in the bathtub. “Uh, who is it?” he asks, voice echoing back to him. He wants to slap himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who else would it be?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?” It was Kei. Kei’s semi-tired, worked to the bone voice, early in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It should be illegal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>How can anyone be blessed with a voice like that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Keiji swallowed, looking around. A built in metal shelf at the corner of the bathtub carrying shampoos and body wash. There were different ones for different people. Each brand worked differently for everyone else. Tadashi mentioned Kei being unable to use certain brands, something about dandruff and chemicals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” there’s a soft bump from the wooden door. “I was wondering… if you… wanted to go out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji picked up a bottle from the top shelf, reading the back labels. “To?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just out.” Kei answered back quickly. It’s a small habit whenever he is nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Keiji half-smiles, faking his interest in strange chemical ingredients. “When?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Keiji pretended to think, a smile lingering on his face. “Sure, but I have breakfast at Kenma's, so maybe after that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O- ow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lifted his head. “Tsukishima?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah that’s fine. Um, actually, maybe I can come with… you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bit his lip. He can practically sense Tadashi on the other side, most likely forcing him to say that. That freckled angel can make them do anything with a stare. “Yeah, that’ll be cool!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Kei mutters, another thud following. “I mean, cool!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not bad people.” Keiji puts back the soap. He reaches to the third and last shelf, his own supplies he buys for himself every other week. It’s strange yet melancholious </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as you’re there, it’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-” Keiji’s hands stopped scrubbing, a clump of foamy soap slid down his forehead and into his eye. His hands fly to his eye, rubbing vigorously, biting his tongue down. “Ow!” The soap stinging in his right eye, flaring and throbbing of pain. He mentally screams, begging for relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Water!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoves his head under the pouring stream, forcing his right eye to widen and flush the substance out… What a grave mistake that was… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay in there?” Kei asks, the door knob wiggled, a sign his hand was mostly likely wrapped around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m good!” Keiji’s voice slightly cracked at the end. His throat tightened, needed to scream from the mass pain he was inflicted upon from who knows what. Which god he pissed off? He’s not sure but definitely someone out there is out to get him. Or he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid, he couldn’t tell at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have terrible luck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Kei chuckles, his morning voice rusty, worn out from weathered troubles. “Coffee’s ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be there in a minute!” Keiji scurries off, ignoring the pain pulsing through his eye. His hands and tips of his fingers scratch lightly against his scalp. He’d take his time massaging out the soap, but he’s in a hurry. You see, coffee just served and made with love beats instant coffee powder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure he was taught to make his favorite... It still didn’t taste as good as Tadashi’s. Kei would poke fun at him for it, but he secretly agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurry up,” Kei’s voice falters, steps retreating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was left no choice but to scrub as quickly as possible before being left to suffer with cold coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened to your eye?” Tadashi’s mouth gapes slightly. “Is it okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got soap in it,” Keiji mumbles, blowing into his cup. He eyes back and forth between all mugs on the table. His plain, white mug stands out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei snickers. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji frowns, his eyes squinting and scrutinizing. “It wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t distract me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei opened his mouth to retaliate, but he was too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei!” Tadashi groans, “Can you for one day, not cause havoc indirectly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei looked offended, his shoulders perked up, ready to defend himself. “What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi doesn’t listen any more, his look tears away to Keiji, eyes softened. “I’m sorry he keeps bugging you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji tries to shove down his smile, hiding it to the best of his ability behind his cup of coffee. His voice shakes a bit. “It’s alright, I’m sure Kei just enjoys seeing me suffer.” It was a strange concept, the fact the tall blond had a beautiful, simple name. The name always leaves a funny feeling in his mouth, almost full yet empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhat satisfying, but seeking for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei was addictive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you need anything, just let me know.” Tadashi smiled followed by a wink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both were addictive, always eager to be close, and still being so far away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, he’s coming with me to Kenma’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Kei groans, “I regret it already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t be that bad,” Keiji shakes his head, his top lip burning. He tried to sip, but the second the hot liquid met his lips, he pulled away immediately. “Kenma is a pretty chill person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Kuroo…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please,” Tadashi interjects, sneering. “You admire him, wasn’t he the one who mentored you to be a better player?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Liar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Kei’s hand resting on the table rises and falls, slapping it lightly. He admitted defeat with a simple, small movement. “And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will Bokuto be there?” Tadashi takes a big chug, eyebrows rising as he looks down at his watch. “Oh, got to go. Tell me later?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Keiji responds fondly. He loved it. The silent promise to spend time together in the future warms his heart every time. “What do you want for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm…” Tadashi’s hand grips his hip, head tilting to the ceiling. “Surprise me,” he says, shrugging and walking away. “See ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be safe!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shuts his eyes, listening to the door click and lock in place. “So,” he smirks, eyes opening to Kei’s questioning glance, “about tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Kei groans, dragging it out. “Please, don’t remind me. I really regret it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just bring something for snacks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but that’s all the interacting I’ll do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji watches the clock, the hands ticking until it reaches 12. And starts again. His phone buzzes, shivering, looking at the lock screen with a tinted clear case around it. His mother had continued to message him. So eager to have him call her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What could be so important that she can’t tell me in a text?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s mother to him, always cold and distant. She’s the coldest chill to wrap around your bones, hurting, aching all over until you’re driven mad against the wall. Your back shivers, gulping down nothing but air. The small drops of saliva feels like a fingernail dragging a long sandpaper, the sounds of a fingernail dragging on a chalkboard follows along in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs, shoulders rolling back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back pain?” the receptionist calls out, her pen sliding between her fingers as she yawns. “Sorry ‘bout that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji drops his head on the desk, nodding and yawning. “Sorry,” he quickly apologizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, they’re contagious.” she chuckles behind her hand, terribly covering up her own yawn. “You need pain killers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m just a bit tense.” Keiji bites back another yawn from surfacing. He could feel his eyes water, but still not sure if they’re from being ‘tired’ or his thoughts repeating in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, boss says you’ve been doing a lot with Udai.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” his eyes droop, feeling the large ball in his head rolling back and forth. “He’s… definitely something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you offered to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t really, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he chews his bottom lip. “Yeah, I guess I felt like I should since I sorta knew him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a friend’s role model… was a role model... Actually, I’m not sure myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like it’s quite the story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quick duo flashes in his head, the sound of the ball slapping and yelling puts a smile on his face. The spotlights fill the entire gyms, but it always seems like it’s on that one person that shines more than the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He used to see Bokuto like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your shift ends in 10 minutes,” she resumes typing on her keyboard. “Good luck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sits up fast, cracking his hands and picking up his pen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>T-minus 10 minutes until Kei picks him up to see their friends from gym 3.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Keiji stretches his arms over his head, bending them until he hears the pop. He smiles, knowing Kei must have his famous ‘that’s disgusting’ face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s disgusting,” Kei leans forward a bit, eyes squinting as he waits for the red light to turn green.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an old man,” Keiji puts down his hands, folding them across his chest. “One day, you’ll feel like your body is being slammed back and forth by the hands of a demon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei sneers, looking at the rearview mirror. “You’re one year older than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One year older till being a senior.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can save us money by getting senior discounts!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cheeky-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, would you look at that?” Kei whistles, his bottom lip being chewed from inside to keep himself from chuckling out loud. “We’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was too excited and nervous to counter, his mind has been all over the place. He’s happy being with friends, don’t get him wrong, but having family members he doesn’t have a close relationship with is rather tiring to talk to. The amount of energy it consumes just texting his own family makes him want to hibernate for months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi understood, he never pushed him for answers. He was always there, bringing him a hot cup of whatever he decided to serve that day and let Keiji drift off on his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Keiji muttered, his social battery visibly flashing for recharge in front of Kei.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” Kei asks. “We can go back if you want. I have no complaints,” he jokes, an eyebrow lifting in hopes of getting a smile out of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Keiji shuts his eyes, shoving every hurtful and cold memory. The view of a closed door, the golden doorknob showing his own reflection was a common theme as a child. He hated it, always despised it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stay in there until you learn how to behave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s eyes flutter open. “I’m good, ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The street lamp’s light shone just below Kei’s eyes. Kei moved forward, the light hitting his eyes, a small sparkle of worry at the corners. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Keiji gulps, his heart pounding. They were only a few inches apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Kei pulls back. “Let’s get this over with,” he dreads, his back slumping and eyes squinting at the open window with Kuroo and Bokuto waving at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji follows his glance, bursting into a small fit of laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s nothing to worry about now, Keiji. You’ll be alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Bokuto?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like you need another drink,” Bokuto slides a shot glass across the counter, stopping in front of Keiji’s left elbow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he shakes his head, his hand already gripping around the cup a little too hard. He gulps it down quickly, despite his body language trying to convince everyone else around him that he’s anything but fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Kenma whispers next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji bitterly swallows the cold drink, alcohol biting his gums and shrinking back. He felt his insides cave inside, desperately swallowing his own dried up saliva. “Yeah,” he croaks, shivering when a small breeze hits the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma doesn’t move, his eyes studying the poorly, fake smile plastered on his face. The underlying message causes Keiji’s eyes to look away, the tiny tingling on his arms creeping up to his shoulder, a heavy shiver following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cold?” Kei asks, holding a light sweater up in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Keiji throws on a smile, taking it. His fingernails digging into the cotton, clinging on for the tiny shred of sanity he’s hardly holding onto. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want to go back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi!” Kuroo holds up his phone, waving it around. “Levi and Hinata are on the way!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding.” Kei feels exasperated, his shoulders hanging low. “No…” he groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If chaos is fun, then I want to go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsukki-” Bokuto puts a  hand in the middle of Kei’s back, patting it a little too hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsukishima,” Kei corrects him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsukki,” Bokuto insists, “it’s not the entire third gym if they’re not here either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji barely sticks an arm through the sweater’s sleeve, the cotton loosely hugging him, but the warmth still spreads quickly. “Bokuto is right,” he puts his arm through the other. “We haven’t been together like this in awhile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why am I here?” Kenma is looking down at his phone, typing rapidly. “Can I go to the room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean you don’t want to talk to Hinata?” Kuroo teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma doesn’t say a word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouyou is better at video games…” Kenma mutters, a sharp smirk hidden behind a few hairs hanging on the side of his face. Kuroo doesn’t see it, but Keiji does. He can see how much he enjoys twirling him around and lightly tugging at him. It’s the thrill of always keeping someone on their toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji turns around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto trembled with a kitchen knife, almost touching the small fruit in his hand. Tiny sweat drops forming next to his eye. “Help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sighs, laughing under his breath as every worry leaves him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Enjoy it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give it here,” he takes the knife, cutting straight through. He missed this. He missed all of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Agaashi,” Bokuto, shining his teeth. A goofy, simple but appreciative smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto!” Hinata scurries over to him, his hands raised above his head. His feet no longer have to jump high to give him high-fives, but the joy in bouncing and slamming hands together still makes him smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hinata!” Bokuto readies himself, his stance taking ground, as if Hinata had the power to push him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you guys see each other often?” Kei’s hand cups one side of his face, leaning into and hunching in his seat. He can feel a small jab on the side of his head, a forming headache from being surrounded by the loudest people he’s ever met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let them have fun,” Kuroo slaps an arm to Lev’s back, his grin wide. “You’ve sure gotten a lot more popular.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji was fascinated, the material of Lev’s suit had small vertical stripes, just a shade darker. Crisp, clean clothing, not a single hair or lint on his dark clothing. Color him impressed, it was like seeing a whole other person, but it has been years since they’ve last talked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look good,” he tells Lev, offering a glass of some dark liquid, probably alcohol that Kuroo poured just a second ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks!” Lev’s smile was broad, handsome with pure white teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like a model.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say what now?” Kei didn’t believe it. “You’re telling me you can sit down for more than 2 minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Lev chuckles, “I’m surprised you think that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo slaps a hand at his back, sneering. “Oh? Weren’t you constantly texting me how excited you were you could barely sit still?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m also positive Hinata mentioned you were bouncing in your seat just as much as he was,” Kenma cuts in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lev starts to tremble, his hand shaking his drink, the liquid vibrating. “Okay!” He chugs the contents, barely flinching. “You got me! I was just trying to be cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are cool,” Bokuto says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re all losers,” Kei turns his head away, ignoring Hinata’s and Lev’s pouting and weird noises that were escaping from their mouths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not argue yet,” Kuroo points out, moving the two away from the blond. “We’re here to have a good time, right Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just enjoy this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” Kei presses a small water bottle to Keiji’s left cheek, the coolness making him close his eyes and rest for a mere second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, I’ll be nicer,” Kei rolls his eyes, the corner of his lips turning down to a small scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji takes the bottle, laughing. “It’s alright, let’s just have fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ll be alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keiji swallows hard, his spit never making it down his throat. He can feel the pent up anxiety in his stomach, balling itself and slightly bouncing around. His entire body makes him feel uneasy, right leg shaking as he tries to sit still on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Muffled voices behind the bedroom door told him this was his fault. What was the breaking point? If anything, it could have been him living there all along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I told you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hair in the back of his neck spike up, goosebumps hurting, and rubbing against the back of his shirt made it prickle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So let him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This was bound to happen, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself over and over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s for the best!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s inevitable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s only so much people can take.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swings open. Keiji holds in his breath. It could have been merely 20 seconds, or even 20 minutes. Everything felt the same, agonizing and wishing to end. There were no stomps, slamming doors. or heavy sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized his eyes were shut tight. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi tilts his head, his thumb rubbing the side of his index finger. A self soothing technique he’s sure he’s seen somewhere before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” the freckles on his face stood out a bit more. He was paler, tired even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should be asking you that,” Keiji forces himself to swallow, his stomach hurting. Pain repeatedly kicked, making him nauseous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Tadashi flexed out his hands, forcing them to stop shaking. It never helped, but he did it anyway. “Just tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being lied in front of your face hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence made Keiji worse, the pain continuing. The bottom of his feet had pins and needles, his chest started to ache. There was nothing more to do but dissolve in thin air. He had never wished so hard before in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We…” Tadashi began, resorting to hiding his hands behind his back. “We have something we want to do this weekend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nodded, visibly seeing the small movements to know Tadashi was wringing his hands. Another habit when things were beginning to get a bit much. Anxiety sucks, doesn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should join us… please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have something to tell you,” Kei’s voice causes them to jump. Keiji almost gave himself whiplash from suddenly turning his head around. The blond stood, arms folded and leaning against the hallway’s wall. The shadows of light didn’t cast a single detail on his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to see what they were saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s heart echoed loudly in his ears. The sounds of angry drums pounding furiously to a terrifying, fearful beat felt like his entire world flipped upside down. There was no delaying the inevitable, things happen for a reason. This weekend his usual mornings of coffee with them may be the last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” his voice cracks, hardly audible. He clears his throat, forcing his shoulder to violently pull forward and back, in hopes his anxiety will disappear with it. Sadly, that’s not how it works, despite thinking positively and wondering, perhaps somewhere out there, some place in his brain there’s a lock to silence all thoughts. It’s a theory he wishes was true, but no matter how hard he looks, he feels like an idiot at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing bad!” Tadashi reassures him, his hands waving to the side. Imaginary worries could have been dispelled with such a movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might as well be,” Kei lets out a sigh, the soft taps of his feet as he walks away in the hallway. Keiji listens eagerly for the door to close. And it did… a little too hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t listen to him. He’s just cranky,” Tadashi awkwardly laughs. “Just a change… in some things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s heart picks up, racing on a slippery track. No railings or handles to help him steady. A change in what? Is he going to have to start finding a new place? Did they find out his feelings for them? Do they hate him for taking over their couch? Are they planning someone else to move in?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fighting, lots of yelling behind enclosed spaces. He wasn’t in the room with them, and still felt claustrophobic. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This was temporary,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he reminds himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Tadashi’s arms cover in goosebumps. “Are you sure you’re…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright, Tadashi.” Keiji looks at a string stray from the rest of the couch. The wiggly line stuck up very visibly. It’s been there for a few days now, not wanting to pull it out. He felt kind of bad for it, almost relating to it at some point. He let it stay, thinking that if he was welcomed to someone’s home, he might welcome ‘someone’ else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not how it works either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was stupid to think like that. He realizes it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Temporary.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all it’s been. Isn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You got too attached.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?” Tadashi took a few steps closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji flinched. “I should go,” he says, not looking at him. He can hear his own heart cracking. “I got plans tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a cold wave of air hitting in between them as Keiji rapidly passed by. The sting on his cheeks felt hotter when he stepped out the door. His heart was as thin as paper, crumpled tight. It hurt. He wanted to yank it out and tear it apart, toss it into burning fire on a stove. Anything that would get rid of it instantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoot,” he snaps his fingers. He forgot his phone on the coffee table. Not wanting to go back, he heavily sighs and walks to the nearest bus stop. If there’s anyone at home all the time, it’s the one he knows who never leaves the house until it’s necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please be home,” he wishes under his breath, a slight burning sensation ran down his right cheek. He wasn’t in any mood to check or wipe it off. He already knew, it’s not a secret. It’s simply a symptom of heartbreak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kenma?” he knocks softly at first. “Kenma!” The knocks harder, fast, almost as if someone was chasing him down with a baseball bat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lock clicks, opening up instantly. Keiji can feel a huge sigh of relief washing over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agaashi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” his body freezes under the golden eyes staring right at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji slaps on a smile, his eyes screaming in pain as hot tears threatened to gush over. “Yeah! Is Kenma here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please say yes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>FUCK!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” his smile falters for a split second. “I’ll come by later then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Bokuto doesn’t waste any time, not letting Keiji leave his vision. “You can still come inside. He only went out for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t,” Keiji shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Bokuto steps aside, his head nodding towards the living room. “You’re always welcome here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji grimaces. “This isn’t your place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto opens his mouth. There wasn’t a single excuse he could say, so he shut his lips tight. He covers up his mistake with something mixed of a cough and a chuckle. One of Keiji’s favorite things about Bokuto was how easy he could dispel the awkward tension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of the reason why he fell in love in the first place. But that was long ago…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could catch up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji hesitated, not really wanting to do anything aside from throw himself on the floor and cry for hours. Yet, the invitation made him feel warm. He still had to make things up with Bokuto. The slight awkward tension dissipated over a few gatherings and conversations when it was possible. It was always when the time came, but never him reaching out first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” his body retaliated, knowing he didn’t come here for this. He might as well shove his head in between the sofa’s mattress. The feeling of suffocation worsened, following him as he took a step closer to the dining area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he shakes his head, fingers itching to yank his hair out. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What am I doing here?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto plops himself down next to him, his shoulder clashing into his. The sudden push almost knocks him off the chair. “How’s work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji winces, knuckles white. His throat feels too dry, already regretting turning down the offer. “Uh,” his voice cracks. pausing to clear his throat. “It’s busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any good manga? What about Tenma’s works?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s already released a few chapters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But the next one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not!?” Bokuto pouts, a light flickering in his eyes. Dancing something mischievous, silly and fun like a child when eating their favorite candy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s chest feels lighter, his shoulders hang a little loose. He unlocks his jaws and fists, feeling his bones silently thank him for the sudden shift in tension. “I’d be leaking confidential information.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise I won’t tell a soul.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji looks at him with half-lidded eyes. “The last time I told you a secret, you told the entire team I was scared of Barney the dinosaur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cute!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s embarrassing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, c’mon… I was afraid of that clown when we went to the circus with the team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He narrows his eyes. “That’s not the same! Everyone hates clowns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto lets out a boisterous laugh, hearty and without a fear or doubt. It might have made anyone else wince with how loud it was, but it made Keiji crack a small smile. Some habits are hard to break, for Bokuto, there’s no reason for them to be fixed. That’s just how he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s why Keiji started to feel better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he mutters, hands rubbing his forearms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto tilts his head, a smile still glued wide on his face. “What for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shrugs, hands sliding off and kneading at his kneecaps. “Just for being you, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!” And that was it. He may not fully understand the situation, but he never pressed on. Maybe things will slip out here and there, never with malicious intent. It was heartwarming, a second pair of arms awaiting for you to fall into, either mentally or physically. He was fine with either one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever been in love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s eyes widen, the top of his cheeks darken. “Uh,” he hesitates for a moment, composure falling into the cracks. “I’m not sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji lifts a brow, biting the inside of his cheek. “Sorry, that’s dumb of me to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Bokuto cuts in. “It surprised me, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ‘sorry’ falls off the edge, his tongue only touching the top of his mouth and letting it settle at the bottom. He couldn’t say anything else, he realized how much he intruded in his personal life. The boundaries, never mentioned before, were crossed. Keiji hangs his head down, looking deeply into the strange grooves on the wooden table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never felt that way towards anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up, a small pop from his neck from the sudden jolt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t really stop and think about romance,” Bokuto chuckles, fingers tapping on wood. “It’s not something I like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you dislike it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “It’s not something I’m comfortable with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s head feels lighter, a small lightbulb flickering in a dark room. “You’re… not interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto nods, a smile so small, yet full of relief. “It’s not something I want or need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need it, I have you and Kuroo and Kenma… and Tsukki!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji felt his left eye twitch, a familiar, burning sensation punching through thick walls. “That’s… nice, Bokuto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Bokuto’s hands pause mid-air, making their way towards the back of his neck. He massages himself, slouching a bit from shyness. It was strange seeing him this way, but Keiji can see how much this meant for him. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nearly bites his tongue. “Why?” he blurts out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve seen Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we all know Tsukishima.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does he have anything to do with this?” Keiji felt a bit bitter towards his name. It wasn’t fair to feel that way. He imagined an ocean, waves crashing angrily on the shore. His ankles and arms tickled whenever water splashed from the rocks. Every wave that hit below him reminded him to take a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m too childish to be in a relationship compared to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji can sense the buried frustration in Bokuto. From the bottom of his stomach, a creepy feeling slithered up. Discomforting, heightened buzzing noises filled his ears. It was like watching someone else unfold, falling into torn pieces of paper that was once filled with love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t like it when someone tried to hold my hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opens his mouth, a breath of air carefully leaves him, almost breathless in the end. He takes a gulp of oxygen, mouth feeling dry. He couldn’t read anything, the whole thing feeling unreal. It’s disappointing, the sense of defeat when he couldn’t move or say anything to support him. After all those years of encouragement, he couldn’t give something in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw him try to hook my pinky into his,” Bokuto didn’t look fragile… he looked… hurt. “And all I could think was trying to think of an excuse to get out of there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When did this happen? Where? Who was it with? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto could read him easily. “Ah! It happened before you joined volleyball.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Keiji jolted at his own response. His voice clearing the strange, prickly feeling in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha, it’s not a huge de-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.” Keiji cuts him off. “It’s important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it?” There it was. The aloof look on his face, like nothing happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it is,” Keiji clicked his tongue. He hadn’t meant to look annoyed, it was more at himself than anyone else. “You shouldn’t think down on yourself like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m weird…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re not,” he shifts in his seat, taking in a deep breath. He was going to do everything he can to make sure Bokuto knows how much he means to him. How important he is to him, like a star all alone, appearing earlier than the others as evening sets in the sky. “It’s okay to feel that way. You don’t have to enjoy what others seek. It’s not a law you have to follow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto shifts uncomfortably, his legs shaking, making him antsy sitting down. From a stranger’s point of view, you would mistake him for being unable to sit down. That annoyed Keiji more than anything. The amount of people judging his best friend as childish, immature, gullible… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not childish to feel unpleasant about affection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not only that…” Bokuto weakly states. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji waits for him to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like… mushy things in general.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like romance?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s mind stirs around, the words slapping him in the face. He knows what the word is, but by placing them in front, he’d be labeling him. That’s not what he wants to do, so instead, he lets his friend spill his emotions unfiltered. No judging, as if he ever did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me everything,” he says, hands flat on the table. He managed to stop his leg shakes and his back may be in slight pain. “I want to know everything… if you’d let me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s posture wasn’t the usual confident, tall stature. He was a bit smaller, funny enough for someone as buff and tall as him. It was comfort, the distress releasing from the very back of his head, a new page being flipped as he moved on from the previous chapter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma didn’t say anything when he came back home. He set two cups of hot beverages, one tea and one coffee. He’s not a barista, but he’s not terrible at making drinks. It’s decent enough to drink and keep you warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small hint of a smile spreads to his lips, watching Keiji and Bokuto subconsciously take the cups and drink. The words don’t clog his mind, each one going in one ear and out the other. No questions asked, no lecture given once he saw the laughs and shared whispers between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like two stars miles apart, pulsating at different speeds to each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The missed calls piled, the look of vexation as Keiji scrolled down the log almost seemed murderous. If he could strangle it whenever the infinite vibration started against glass tables, he’s sure he’d be a lot better. Maybe he wouldn’t wake up feeling like he could chuck himself into a steaming, hot pool to boil himself alive into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Tadashi would even let him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Tadashi’s head pops up above Keiji, his face obscured by the phone held tightly in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he groans, already wishing the day to be over with. Nothing sounds better than to sleep for a month without any disturbances. “Just tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” Tadashi trails off, not convinced. There’s no point in pushing for more info when Keiji was already irritated since he mentioned they needed to talk. There’s only two days left before the ‘big announcement’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time Keiji looked at the clock, he’s reminded how much closer he is to losing the safe haven he shouldn’t have gotten used to. It hurt, painfully nagging in the back of his head. It’s a constant slap in the face when he realizes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want anything to eat?” Tadashi asks, the sound of sizzling meat in the pan makes Keiji’s stomach growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he ignores it. He’d rather starve on the couch and dissipate into thousands of dust particles. Poof. The best magic trick around, and the best part is he’ll never return. He silently thanks his imaginative audience, the sound of clapping hands and whistles give him a split second of euphoria.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If only…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Keiji sighs out, finally pushing himself off the bed. It took longer, probably behind schedule by now. Not that it matters anymore… “I should go anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright…” Tadashi is skeptical. Unknowing how to approach him since the argument with his boyfriend. He’s not a fool, the walls aren’t thick, protecting every single noise kept in all four sides. “I can make you coffee to g-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door closed softly, the click shut him up right away. He had no reason to feel hurt, rather deserved it at most ever since bringing this onto him. How could anyone treat him fairly for building up a beautiful friendship, only to have it torn down all in a second?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer is simple, no one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs, the spatula in hand slips out and clatters noisily on the countertop. Hands furiously swiping down his face, dragging his skin as guilt ate him alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Kei leans on the doorway, dark circles under his eyes. It’s been some time since he’s shown up, work busying him and consistently requesting him to be stuck in his office. Keiji barely made an appearance, the desk remained empty and lonely. Few bits of dust bunnies gathered, but he made sure to sweep them away before building up a snowfall of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Tadashi lies. Of course Kei would never believe that, they’re together. Relationships require communication. Whether you like it or not, talking is a must, and today Tadashi didn’t feel like it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei shrugs. “You don’t have to hide anything. He’s not here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he turns the knob on the stove. “What if he hates us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is what it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you act like that?” Tadashi turns to him. “You’ve already accepted that he’ll never talk to us again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi wasn’t pleased. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really think he’ll want to stay with us after we tell him the truth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do y-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think about it, Tadashi.” Kei’s hand clings hard, the side of his hip feeling bruised from the tight grip. “Who would ever talk to us after what we’ve done? I wouldn’t,” he harshly muttered, making his boyfriend flinch. He hates pity parties, always despised himself for brooding whenever things got too much to handle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t be like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s pathetic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not pathetic,” Tadashi read his mind, facing down at the slightly burned bacon. He used to treat it as a specialty, a rare treat whenever he went out to eat breakfast before class. It was strange, seeing certain foods available to him. It’s easy to decide if he should take it or not, knowing that he could afford it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never would have thought he’d be here, a few years after high school, in a much better home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t think so badly of yourself, Kei.” he reprimands him, sliding the bacon off the pan and onto a plate with a napkin over it. Why Kei needs it served this way used to baffle him. “We can’t control what we feel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei silently agrees, not wanting to talk or make a move. His eyes fixated on a small smudge sticking out on the fridge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” Tadashi continues, taking out a nice cut of bacon. He refuses to throw away the previous one, it might taste a little funny, but it’s still edible. “At least we agreed on something that everyone else thought would tear us apart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kei takes one last look at his freckled lover, watching the sad smile grow. He realizes how tired his boyfriend is, the dim light in his eyes only flickering when the fire sparks. Crackling and sizzling fills the kitchen, a comfortable, homely feeling he loves so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least we have each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll always have each other, Kei.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im back. hi. sorry for the wait.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>